


neon moon

by starryjeon



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dom Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Dom/sub Undertones, Friends to Lovers, Idk if there's a plot, Idols, Kinda, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink, Sub Lee Taeyong, They learn together, but here's the catch, dotae are so amazing, doyoung takes care of taeyong, im losing years of my life as i type this, recreational alcohol use, soft moments, taeyong in fishnets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:41:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26619115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryjeon/pseuds/starryjeon
Summary: “I just want to be able to come to you and not have to think, just for a while,” Taeyong pleads in a whisper. And it's then when Doyoung commits to it.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 23
Kudos: 286





	neon moon

**Author's Note:**

> hi. i shouldn't even have to say this but- this is a work of fiction, the characters depicted in this story do not reflect in any way my real perception of them. I am not affiliated with nct or any other brand mentioned. (except for jungwoo he's my cousin.)
> 
> with that said, enjoy!

And it's easy, isn't it? It's just easy and so natural.  
  
Taeyong stares at him and hears a thousand words that have never been said—he understands.  
  
Doyoung is his best friend, he's the person Taeyong trusts the most, he knows. That's the only reason. There is nothing more to read into it, it's just what it is. Taeyong trusts Doyoung more than he trusts himself, and Doyoung thinks he'd rather cut his hand off than let Taeyong down.  
  
It's the only reason why he lets Taeyong come into his room, close the door quietly and lock it right after.  
  
They need to talk—they have to talk, now, preferably. Doyoung's heart is beating wildly in his chest, his hands closing into fists as he takes a deep breath. He watches as Taeyong walks closer —slowly, slowly— and stands right in front of him. The slight height difference between them suddenly too apparent, Taeyong tilts his head up to stare at him properly. Up close, Doyoung notices Taeyong’s breathing isn't steady and realizes he's not the only one that's a bit nervous right now.  
  
"Hey," Taeyong says, more to break the silence than anything, and bites his lip instantly.  
  
"Hey," Doyoung replies, not very sure of what to say. "Let's talk?"  
  
Taeyong nods and takes a deep breath. "I... you know why I'm here, right?"  
  
"To talk about last night, I hope," Doyoung ventures.  
  
"Yes. Well... it was..." Taeyong trails off, and shakes his head, frustrated. "I'm sorry, it's just— I've never talked about this before."  
  
"It's okay, take your time." Doyoung assures.  
  
"It made me feel better." Taeyong states, right after. "When you held me down yesterday... it made me feel much better."  
  
"Okay, what else?"  
  
"It was... you know what it was, right? the fact you didn't let me move, and spoke for me... I liked that." Taeyong clarifies, as if the whole situation hadn't been replaying on loop in Doyoung's brain ever since it happened.  
  
"I know," Doyoung confirms. "May I ask why?"  
  
Taeyong stares at him with a glint in his eyes, something so complex Doyoung isn't quite sure what it is, but wants to know anyway.  
  
"You... you took charge. I don't— it gets to be too much sometimes, being a leader and everything... it's hard to ground myself and just... let go," Taeyong sighs. "I get overwhelmed sometimes. Taking care of you guys is hard," he laughs humorlessly. "I guess I liked to be taken care of, for once."  
  
"That's how you felt? like I was taking care of you?" Doyoung asks, wanting to understand if it's really what he thinks it is.  
  
Taeyong nods.  
  
"You know you're allowed to ask for a little break, right? it's obvious that you need it."  
  
"No. I mean, yes— I know I'm allowed to ask for one, and I will, eventually. Now is not the time, though, I know I can handle it." Taeyong insists, but he sounds tired, has been for a while. “I just want to be able to come to you and not have to think, just for a while,” Taeyong adds in a whisper. “It’s so hard having to make decisions for me, let alone ones that affect eight other people as well, when everyone expects me to do things _right_ and so many others just observe waiting for me to make a mistake.” Taeyong's voice cracks a little, and Doyoung's heart aches.

It’s then when Doyoung commits to it. He was already sure about helping Taeyong in any way that he might want. But this—seeing Taeyong (strong, diligent, super leader Taeyong) practically break down with the weight that’s put on his shoulders—is what makes him realize just how much Taeyong needs his help. Their mutual trust is incomparable, beyond everything, and Doyoung wants to help more than he wants to keep breathing. He won’t be able to live peacefully with the knowledge that he could have done something to help his best friend overcome some struggles and become a happier, healthier person. He won’t take any chances of seeing Taeyong go around with the motions with an empty stomach and circles under his eyes again—not if he can help it. And Doyoung _can._  
  
Doyoung swallows. If he doesn't ask now, he won't ever have the courage again. If Taeyong doesn't ask now he doesn't know what will happen, either. So he takes one for the team, and shoots his shot.  
  
"Would it help if I do it again?"  
  
The silence that takes over feels like a gigantic asphyxiating blanket that's been draped over them with no previous warning. Doyoung can hear his own heartbeat and he's pretty sure Taeyong's as well. The endless loop of possible things he could say to take it back and pretend it was just a joke fills his mind as he scrambles to find an excuse suitable enough that won't make him look like the most absurd idiot ever existed.  
  
He's ready to laugh it off and say _just kidding, I can go with you when you ask for a break though. Wanna watch a movie or something?_ when Taeyong's soft mumble reaches his ears.  
  
The only reason he's able to hear it is because the silence was so deafening you'd hear a pin drop.  
  
_"Please."_  
  
Doyoung looks at Taeyong again, not even noticing he was staring at the wall the whole time. His best friend is biting his bottom lip so harshly Doyoung is scared he'll break skin. Mindlessly, he reaches to Taeyong's mouth with his right hand, letting his fingers touch softly over Taeyong's lip, urging him to let go. Taeyong glances up at him, and Doyoung knows there is no way back.  
  
"Do you want me to take care of you?" Doyoung asks. "When you feel like that, when you need it."  
  
"Would you be okay with it?" Taeyong wonders, lips brushing against Doyoung's fingers.  
  
"I would if you want me to."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Yes, Taeyong, I'm okay with it." Doyoung affirms.  
  
Taeyong makes a sound in the back of his throat, getting closer.  
  
"Then yes. Please."  
  
Doyoung nods once, and before he can think it through, he presses his thumb a bit firmer over Taeyong's lips. "We have to talk about that, then." Taeyong nods, the motion making his bottom lip drag down. He parts his lips.  
  
Doyoung slips his thumb into Taeyong's mouth, slowly, carefully. Taeyong receives it with a sigh, and his eyes seem to shine brighter than Doyoung's ever seen. He presses a bit further as he cups Taeyong's chin, making his head tilt backwards a little more. Taeyong closes his lips around the digit, closing his eyes, and sucks.  
  
Doyoung gapes at him, wondering what in the world he must have done in his past life to deserve the sight in front of him. His hyung, his bandmate, his best friend— sucking one of his fingers as if it was everything he's ever needed.  
  
He knows they need to talk. There's absolutely no way they'll do what they're planning on doing if they don't sit the fuck down and talk. Discuss every single thing they want and do not want, know each and every limit, and consent to them. Doyoung knows, he's aware of the importance and the hugeness of the matter. But no one ever warned him about the way Taeyong looked when he gave himself to someone. And god what a sight that was.  
  
Doyoung takes his thumb as slowly as he first introduced it in the first place, seeing the way Taeyong's lips open up at the same time his lashes flutter and his eyes open.  
  
"Go to my bed, let's talk now."  
  
Taeyong drops his head forward though, and presses himself against Doyoung's chest. "Okay," he agrees, but makes no effort to move.  
  
Doyoung reaches the back of Taeyong's neck, holding him in place almost the same way he did last night. "Go."  
  
The younger one takes a gulp of water from the bottle he keeps on his desk, hears the covers rumble as Taeyong makes himself comfortable on his bed, and turns the lights off. The soft lighting from the fairy lights he hung over his bed bathes the room in a warm ambiance.  
  
Doyoung sits on the bed, back against the wall, and smiles at Taeyong. The only visible parts of his body that aren't fully covered by the blankets being the top of his head and his eyes, and Doyoung simply thinks, "Cute."  
  
Taeyong makes a sound, and moves to rest his head over Doyoung's thigh. He instinctively reaches to card his fingers through Taeyong's hair.  
  
"Would you feel more comfortable if I ask you questions and you respond, or if you just explain everything at once?"  
  
"Maybe... Q&A?" Taeyong smiles.  
  
Doyoung returns the smile. "Alright. What is it that you want?"  
  
"I want you to take care of me."  
  
"How?"  
  
Taeyong avoids eye contact. "Like you did yesterday. I don't know how to explain." He says, a little frustrated.  
  
"Please try?" Doyoung pleads. "I'm not going anywhere, take the time you need."  
  
"Promise you won't freak out?" Taeyong asks, after a moment.  
  
"I won't judge you, hyung." Doyoung assures.  
  
"I did some research... about- about all of this. About how I feel," he starts. "And I read some things that... that I think would help me out a lot." Taeyong chokes out.  
  
Doyoung caresses his temple, hoping it conveys at least a quarter of all the comfort he wants Taeyong to feel. "I see. What things?"  
  
When Taeyong doesn't continue, Doyoung does. "I need to know if you trust me enough for this. If you can't talk comfortably about it there's no way we'll be able to _do_ anything. I trust you more than anyone, so I will know you're saying the truth, no matter what you say."  
  
"I do. God, I do. Doyoung, I promise. I trust you with my life. It's not that— it's... I'm scared it might be too much for you." Taeyong laments.  
  
Doyoung takes hold of Taeyong, inciting him to sit down instead, to look at each other more comfortably. "Listen, I'm agreeing to do this, whatever it might entail, because more than anything I want to see you being okay, being happy. But I'm also doing it because I want to. If at any point it turns out to be too much, I'll tell you, as I trust you to do the same."  
  
Taeyong's eyes are filled with unshed tears, and he's holding onto Doyoung's hands as a lifeline. He nods. "Okay..." Taeyong repeats, trying to calm down and say everything he wants to say. "There's a safeword, for when things get too much and any of us need to stop. We could think of one, or stick to the popular one."  
  
"What's the popular one?"  
  
"Like the traffic lights: red to stop, yellow to slow down, green to keep going. So, basically, red."  
  
"Do you feel comfortable with that system?" Doyoung asks, wanting Taeyong to express as much as possible.  
  
"I— yeah. Yes, I think it's okay. A-and you? Is it okay with you?"  
  
"Yes, it's easy to remember and understand." He agrees.  
  
Taeyong continues, "Great. So. Some things that I read fall into th-the BDSM spectrum."  
  
Doyoung kind of figured already, but just guessing and figuring things out isn't the way to go in this situation. "I understand."  
  
"I like to... to feel small? I think that's the easiest way to put it. But it's more than that. Like last night, you didn't particularly do anything to make me feel small but it felt good either way, because I wasn't in control. You get it?"  
  
"I do, but I also need you to be more specific."  
  
Taeyong sighs. "I know. Sorry, it's the first time I talk about it."  
  
"No, no need to apologize. It's my first time to talk about it, too, you're not alone in this. However, I did my research, too."  
  
Taeyong looks up so quickly he's impressed his neck doesn't snap. "What?"  
  
"I was curious about something once and I searched it up. I never did it, but I know some things in theory, so you don't have to worry about me being freaked out or something like that." Doyoung clears up. Taeyong keeps looking at him like he's grown a second head. But in a good way. Like he wants to have a second head too, or something .  
  
He laughs a bit. "Who would have thought, Kim Doyoung has knowledge about BDSM."  
  
Doyoung laughs, too, and shakes their hands that are still locked together. "Hey, who would have thought Lee Taeyong does, too?"  
  
Taeyong smiles sheepishly, "Well... there you have it."  
  
"Do you wanna go through it together?" Doyoung suggests.  
  
"How do you mean?"  
  
"You said you read it somewhere, let's read it together and go from there."  
  
"Yeah... yes, let's do that." Taeyong agrees, and gets up to retrieve Doyoung's phone from the desk.  
  
As Taeyong goes into incognito mode and enters the name of the page on the search bar, Doyoung repositions them so Taeyong rests his head on his shoulder.  
  
"Here." Taeyong says after a minute, handing the phone over to Doyoung.  
  
The screen displays a handful of words on a black background, there's some preface of information above a grid of what seems to be a list. Doyoung scans the sentences quickly to get the gist of it and quickly learns it's about techniques and practices a sub can do under different circumstances. One of them reads,  
_Subspace is a mindset that submissives may get into when in a scene. In some cases, submissives look forward to the sensation it might cause in them. Every case is different, so make sure you establish a proper communication with your sub before you engage in any scene._  
  
"Is this what you want?" Doyoung asks.  
  
"One of the things, yes. Umm... I think how I feel during the scene is more important, though."  
  
"Very well, let's read the list and tell me which ones do you think will help."  
  
Taeyong nods, and waits with bated breath for Doyoung to read the words that Taeyong sees clearly on the screen and dance around in his mind.  
  
"Just say yes or no as I list them," Doyoung starts. "Being still."  
  
Taeyong gulps. "Yes," he croaks out.  
  
"Being blindfolded."  
  
"Uhm... yes?"  
  
"I need you to be sure, hyung." Doyoung states softly.  
  
"Can we... can we go through them all and then discuss each of the ones I say yes to?"  
  
"Of course," Doyoung complies. "Being held by the back of the neck."  
  
Taeyong can't say yes fast enough. "Yes. Yes." Doyoung smiles.  
  
Doyoung lists a couple of things Taeyong doesn't particularly care, vetoeing them almost carelessly as he stares intently at the ones he does care about, the ones he _needs_. Taeyong waits impatiently waiting for Doyoung to read them already, feels himself getting... some kind of way. Some kind of way he enjoys.  
  
"Being quiet, talking only after getting permission." Doyoung's voice brings him to reality again. So close, it's so close to what he wants. "Yes." Taeyong says.  
  
A fraction of a second, could be missed by anyone, but Taeyong notices it, the way Doyoung stops for a millisecond and takes a deep breath before saying, "Spanking."  
  
"Yes."  
  
And there it is, he looks at the screen and focuses on Doyoung's voice as he says: "Kneeling." Taeyong closes his eyes, feeling it deep in his bones, wanting to do it already, like he's made to do so. "Yeah— I mean. Yes."  
  
Doyoung takes notice of the way Taeyong starts to fidget, first with his hands that grab the edge of Doyoung's shirt, then his feet that keep kicking the blankets as if he can't stay still anymore. "Everything okay?"  
  
"Hmm? what. Yes. I'm fine." Taeyong's voice comes out strained, but Doyoung doesn't push it.  
  
"Laying down face down on my lap."  
  
_Please_. "Yes."  
  
"Oral fixation?"  
  
Taeyong is about to cry and he doesn't know _why_. "I— yes."  
  
Doyoung hums, and takes hold of Taeyong's fidgeting hands with one of his. "Special or different names?"  
  
"I don't— Don't use honorifics." Taeyong requests.  
  
"You don't want me to call you hyung you mean?" Doyoung questions.  
  
"No," Taeyong confirms. "Just. My name is okay. Maybe... maybe pet names or something. I like that."  
  
Doyoung nods, "Okay, baby."  
  
And that. _That_. Taeyong squeezes Doyoung's hand in his, hard. "Okay." He wheezes out. His heart beating fast fast fast.  
  
Doyoung feels the tension, it's thrilling and unknown and exciting. Nothing is actually happening but knowing they trust each other to even consider talking about all this leaves an impact on him. He suddenly feels all the weight of the situation, but in a good way, in a safe way. Taeyong is holding onto his hand so tightly and if he looks down he'll be able to see him mouthing over his chest, almost like Taeyong doesn't even realize he's doing it. Doyoung forces himself to keep reading.  
  
"Getting your wrists held and or tied."  
  
Taeyong takes a moment to answer. When he does so, it's not more than a murmur. "Yes and maybe, respectively."  
  
"Being praised."  
  
"Yes, please." Taeyong declares, making Doyoung smile.  
  
"That's about it. Anything else you want to add?"  
  
Doyoung has this voice, Taeyong thinks idly, that makes everything sound better. He doesn't use it often, only when he talks to someone he cares a lot about. He's heard it before, though, and it makes Taeyong's heart flutter. It's gentle, soft, patient— like a comforter. When Taeyong hears it he knows he's safe, feels like Doyoung can fix anything and everything; it's all good, because Doyoung is there.  
  
Taeyong shakes his head, pushes himself up and hugs Doyoung. "Thank you."  
  
Doyoung wraps his arms around Taeyong's lithe frame, closes his eyes. "Don't mention it. I don't say it often, but I'm always here for you, no matter what."  
  
"Right back at you." Taeyong replies, willing himself not to cry.  
  
"Do you need something now?"  
  
Taeyong takes a moment to think, while Doyoung traces his fingers over his back and he breathes into Doyoung's neck. He feels lighter than a couple of hours ago, not exactly how he felt last night, but close enough. Good enough for him to say, if a bit shyly: "Can I just stay here tonight?"  
  
"Of course." Doyoung reaches for the covers that Taeyong had kicked away earlier, and drapes them over Taeyong's back as best as he can while having said man over his body.  
  
"Goodnight, Doyoungie," Taeyong says later, when Doyoung already started thinking he'd fallen asleep.  
  
"Goodnight, Taeyong-ah."  
  
Not even a second later, he falls asleep.

* * *

The next day finds them in a mess of practice, magazine photoshoots for Doyoung, meetings for Taeyong, more practice, a meeting for the whole group, and by the time their schedule for the day is over, it's already 9:00 p.m.  
  
Doyoung eats ramen because he's too tired to even try to make a substantial dish, eating quietly next to Johnny before he goes to the gym. Doyoung hasn't seen Taeyong since the group meeting, about two hours ago, and before that, just the morning practice. They haven't had the time to talk, yet, and the thought has been roaming around his head throughout the whole day.  
  
"You okay, there?" Johnny asks, as he takes his empty bowl to the counter.  
  
"Hmm? yeah." He replies distractedly.  
  
"'Kay. See ya tomorrow."  
  
Doyoung nods. "Night, hyung."  
  
Taking his own bowl to the dishwasher, he texts Taeyong.  
  
_going to your room in 10_  
  
A minute later. _okkk ^^_  
  
He knocks on the door when he gets there.  
  
"Come in!" Taeyong calls from inside, the sound of whatever video game he was playing stops once Doyoung opens the door. He takes a seat on Taeyong's bed, watching as the older one closes the windows and turns off his computer. Taeyong strolls around on his chair, stopping right on front of Doyoung.  
  
"Hi." He greets, cutely, because that's just the way Taeyong is.  
  
"Hey," Doyoung greets back, just because.  
  
"We need to talk, right?"  
  
"We do," Doyoung affirms. "We need to establish some limits."  
  
"Right, limits," Taeyong trails off.  
  
"Like how far do you want to go, how do you want all this to go."  
  
"And you, too." Taeyong adds, quickly.  
  
"I— what?"  
  
"This isn't just about me."  
  
"You're right. It's about us two, but I need to know what you want first, and then I'll tell you my part, alright?"  
  
"Alright." Taeyong concedes. What they're doing isn't just fun and games, Doyoung knows, and trusts that Taeyong knows, more than anyone, how serious the ordeal is.  
  
"I want you to be my dom," Taeyong declares. "I want you to take care of me when I need it, and t-to make me feel better." Doyoung waits for him to continue. "It's not all the time. I don't— I don't want you to choose for me and speak for me every time, just when I want to get away from everything except you."  
  
"How will I know when you need it?" Doyoung questions.  
  
Taeyong stares at him. If there's something that he's certain of, is that Doyoung knows him better than anyone else, even better than what he thinks he knows himself. When Taeyong starts to feel tired, Doyoung is the first one to step in and take the lead before Taeyong's even realized his limbs are about to fall off and his throat starts to get sore. When Taeyong gets nervous, Doyoung doesn't think twice before reaching out and give a little encouragement, a reminder he's not alone, that he can do it.  
  
If there is one single thing he doesn't have a single doubt about, is that Doyoung won't ever fail him.  
  
"You always know." He says, as simple as it is.  
  
Doyoung thinks about every time he doubted about himself. There are way too many occasions that come to mind, too many times he overanalyzed his own moves and criticized his own actions, that it's hard to pinpoint a single one. In his 24 years of life, he's doubted himself countless of times. But when he thinks about the times he's doubted Taeyong, he's left empty handed.  
  
(Not a single, miserable time. Not even when they didn't know each other so well, back when they were trainees. Not even when Taeyong cried his heart out, saying he didn't think he was worthy of being a leader. Not even when they fought for the first time, about a silly argument that Doyoung knew he himself was in the wrong. In his 24 years of life, Taeyong is the one person he's always been certain of.)  
  
With that thought in mind, he says: "You can't expect me to never fail about that, though."  
  
Because no matter how much he trusts Taeyong, how much faith he has in him, is that same reason what pushes him to say it. No matter how much he thinks he knows Taeyong, he's not Taeyong himself, there will always be a part that he won't be able to see. Taking guesses about this situation isn't right.  
  
"I know," Taeyong assures. "But I choose to. Even so, I will try my best to tell you."  
  
Doyoung nods, though a bit reluctantly.  
  
"Trust yourself too, please. Don't second guess yourself too much." Taeyong says. "You always make me feel better, anyways."  
  
It's lovely, Doyoung thinks, the feeling he gets when hearing those words. More than anything, the knowledge Taeyong thinks of him as a safe place, as a good _everything._ It's new, unknown, but so lovely. He nods again. "Just... remember to use your safeword, if I do something and you don't want it, or if i don't do anything when you _do_ want it."  
  
Taeyong offers him his pinky, smiling. "Promise." Doyoung links his pinky. "Promise." He repeats.  
  
"One more thing," Doyoung continues. "How long do you want this to last?"  
  
That question—unlike previous ones—make him shiver unpleasantly.  
  
Taeyong is left more or less speechless. He can feel Doyoung staring at him patiently on his bed, and it helps as much as it makes everything worse. It's complicated. "I haven't thought about it, to be honest."  
  
"I'm okay with it as long as you let me know when and if you want to stop." Doyoung says. And what the Fuck.  
  
_If_ he wants to stop. If. Is he...? no... or _is_ he? Taeyong's brain goes into overdrive as he tries his best not to let it show on his face. He smiles a little and announces he's going to the bathroom. He leaves Doyoung in his room. Did— did Doyoung just say what he thinks he said? Did he imply that he's willing to keep going indefinitely if Taeyong doesn't want to stop?  
  
It's a lot to take in.  
  
Maybe he's overthinking it. He's good at that, he thinks he might have majored in overthinking and be the best of the class. That's how good he is. Taeyong brushes his teeth in a haze, he's sleepy and tired and heavy and it takes him an entire night routine —brush his teeth, wash his face, apply a facemask, take it off, apply lotion, and get out of the bathroom— to remember he _can_ ask Doyoung to help him now. It's a dizzying thought.  
  
Almost 20 minutes have passed and Taeyong is mildly freaking out because he just remembered he left Doyoung alone for twenty minutes. He might have gone to his own room by now, and Taeyong wouldn't blame him. It's been a long ass day, he probably wants to rest already. It would be a bit selfish and annoying to just ask something of him right now, wouldn't it? Doyoung must be dead on his feet by now, he has no actual obligation to take care of Taeyong if he doesn't want to and he probably _doesn't_ want to. Taeyong is just an annoying little shit that needs attention and care and _fucking—_  
  
"Hey,"  
  
Taeyong squeals.  
  
"Hey," Doyoung repeats. "It's just me. Come in here, how long have you been standing there?"  
  
Taeyong belatedly realizes he's been standing in front of his bedroom door for about five minutes. Doyoung takes him by the hand and Taeyong hears, in the midst of the messy haze in his brain, the lock being put. He breathes out.  
  
"I was just. Bathroom." He says, eloquent.  
  
"So you've said," Doyoung gets closer. "What do you want, baby?"  
  
It's like a switch that's been flicked. Doyoung slips into his own role so naturally, so effortlessly; it's mesmerizing. Taeyong feels the change instantly, and the way his stomach drops feels amazing. He knows he's safe.  
  
He wants to say _you_ , _I want you_ but even his current self knows it's too much. For now, it's too much. So Taeyong looks up, instead, and says, _"hold me."_ Small.  
  
Doyoung leads him to the bed; he lays down first and accommodates Taeyong so he's over him again, like the night before. Taeyong, almost subconsciously, puts his arms behind his back, languid. Doyoung wraps an army around his waist and circles his wrists with his other hand. It's not tight, neither loose, just enough for Taeyong to feel the pressure of it.  
  
"How is it?" Taeyong feels more than hears Doyoung's voice, the vibrations of it filling every empty space Taeyong feels at the moment.  
  
"Good. Feels good." Taeyong says, mouth dry and eyes closing instantly.  
  
Doyoung feels Taeyong's heartbeat against his own chest, feels it against his fingertips around Taeyong's wrists, feels every slight motion Taeyong makes over him. It's grounding for himself as well. He feels the way Taeyong slips, relaxes and lets loose.  
  
Doyoung can't imagine everything that weighs Taeyong's mind on the daily; can't fathom the amount of responsibility that's thrown at him from left and right every single day. Doyoung tries to put himself in the older one's shoes but that's all he can do. Right then and there, with Taeyong breathing steadily over his chest and his wrists being held by Doyoung's fingers, he vows to himself that if anything — at the very least — even if he can't do anything else:  
he will make Taeyong feel better.  
  
One day at a time.

* * *

How it all started will forever be engrained in Doyoung's memory. Very few things are worthy enough to live in memory for an indefinite amount of time—the first time he got on stage; the absolute power he felt when he sang in front of an audience for the first time, knowing he belonged there. Those are good examples, Doyoung thinks, but his mind doesn't let go of that night, after their last concert in Seoul, when it started.  
  
They just got to their dorm, some hours after the concert ended and a celebratory dinner. The guys were ecstatic, laughing for seemingly no reason at whatever thing that came out of their mouths as if they were the funniest jokes ever known to man. Doyoung was happy, seeing the members have the time of their lives after finishing their first ever world tour. It felt amazing. On the other side of the table, when their dinner was coming to an end, Doyoung caught glance of their leader.  
  
Taeyong was laughing and chatting loudly as the rest of them, the smile taking over his face looked right. (Taeyong looks so good when he's happy.) However, beyond those smiles and unusually loud demeanor, Doyoung caught a glimpse of something else. He didn't drink much —it was of common knowledge that Taeyong couldn't hold his liquor very well, not like Doyoung and Jaehyun could— but his eyes were shimmering like he was drunk in the moment. Some voices mixed together, more laughter, hands flapping around, and then five of the guys asking Taeyong for five different things and asking questions that didn't make much sense considering their current state.  
  
To any one, five people directing their words at them would be a little overwhelming. For Taeyong, it was second nature: responding to different questions, attending different needs, calming different worries— it was his day-to-day as a leader. It wasn't a new sight, but Doyoung saw the exact moment that Taeyong broke down.  
  
One second, Mark is asking him where the bathroom is. Right after, Jaehyun offers him another beer. At the same time, Yuta recalls a story that he desperately needs to tell Taeyong about, and as he begins to talk, Donghyuck yells about making a toast. It all spirals down, as Taeyong's smile slips away from his lips for a fraction of a second before he throws his head back in laughter. Perhaps not for the first time, Taeyong doesn't listen to all of them —is the first time Doyoung actively sees it, though— and instead focuses on what he can hear the most, which was Donghyuck's offer.  
  
He takes a half full bottle of soju and gets up from his chair. "Guys! Let's make a toast!" Taeyong announces loudly.  
  
Everyone grabs their own drinks and Doyoung is a bit too focused on Taeyong so he misses a beat. "For an amazing tour and more great things ahead! Let's fucking go!"  
  
"YEEESSSS!!!" Mark gets quite loud when he's drunk.  
  
At least seven drinks spill over the table as they knock their glasses together. Taeyong downs the soju as if it were water, but looks at it in confusion as nothing comes out.  
  
"You spilled everything, hyung," Donghyuck laughs at Taeyong's expression, looking at the bottle of soju as if it explicitly offended him.  
  
Once they're all content, full, and sufficiently drunk, they head back to the dorms, but not before Taeyong starts suggesting a dozen and other activities they could do before going home. All turned down by the guys as they're more tired than alive at that point.  
  
"Let's go to a noraebang!"  
  
_We just finished a world tour and you still wanna sing in a noraebang right now?_  
  
"Oh! Let's hit the bar! We can call for VIP now."  
  
_I'm hammered, hyung, not tonight._  
  
"WHAT ABOUT-"  
  
And that's when Doyoung steps up, and figuratively makes the whole world stop. Or at least, his and Taeyong's world.  
  
With a swift motion, Doyoung's hand grabs the back of Taeyong's neck in a firm grasp.  
  
"I think we should go home and rest, we're all tired and need to sleep. We can go out any other day." Doyoung states, and keeps walking to the cars that are waiting for them.  
  
Taeyong quiets down immediately after, walking along with him.

They take the same car. Doyoung doesn’t let go of Taeyong’s nape, instead leads him to sit down and promptly takes a seat next to him. Jungwoo joins them but falls asleep as soon as they close the car's door. Before Doyoung can even begin to think, Taeyong drops his head, making a noise at the back of his throat when Doyoung considers to move his hand.

Maybe it was because that day had been so long, Doyoung was barely aware of the weight of any situation that could ever happen. Maybe it was because it was late already, he was so _tired_ and his brain couldn’t give two shits about anything else besides _sleep, don’t let go of Taeyong, sleep._ Whatever the fuck it was—Doyoung keeps his hand in place, and after a second, he wordlessly presses forward so Taeyong’s head comes to rest on Doyoung’s thigh.

Taeyong curls up instantly, making Doyoung mildly worried about his breathing as he simply just buries his face into Doyoung’s thigh. Taeyong stays unmoving and quiet for the rest of the ride.

When they reach the dorms though, Doyoung gives a last pressing motion before lifting him up and announcing they're home. Taeyong flees. Doyoung doesn’t sleep easy that night.

* * *

Despite 127's tour is over and the members finally get a short break, it’s not the case for Taeyong and Mark, as they begin practices for their own schedules with SuperM. Taeyong's schedule is ridiculously packed up and Doyoung listens painfully when Taeyong tells him all about it. Too much work to do, many people to talk and meet up with, so many plane rides, endless hours or dance practice, too little time to catch a break. (A lot of time to feel like he wants to crawl out of his own skin. Plenty of time to feel like he’s trapped.)

Taeyong has developed coping mechanisms, Doyoung learns. He likes to paint and draw, more than he lets the guys know. He plays videogames and listens to music and explores beats to write his own songs. They’re healthy and helpful, Taeyong says, but they're hard to remember when he feels _that_ way. When his own self becomes too heavy and big to carry, when his mind gets stuffy and muffled and blurry, when he needs to be a little _less_ in some ways, and a bit _more_ in others. Less heavy, more free. Less guiding, more guided. Lighter, softer, _under_.

When those times come, Taeyong forgets about those helpful, healthy things, and instead focuses on hitting the gym and lift weights that he should avoid when he feels so tired and hasn’t eaten anything of much substance. He focuses on locking his bedroom door and play loud videogames that drown away his thoughts, make his eyes go red and his ears to buzz. He sleeps when it’s hard to distinguish if it’s late at night or early in the morning.

It’s like this for almost a week. Six days of sleeping for 4 hours at most, eating something quick and go back to work as soon as he’s swallowed the last bite. Six days of feeling entirely too much and knowing he’s not doing enough making Taeyong work twice as hard and affronting the consequences as he goes to shower every night and feels yet another cramp or sore muscle. He’s not gone to Doyoung on six days. Waking up earlier than everyone else, coming back when everyone’s already scooped into their own rooms, not going into the kitchen or common area if it’s not extremely necessary… _avoiding_ Doyoung, if you want to get technical. Which Taeyong doesn’t—because he’s _not_ avoiding Doyoung. He’s simply in places where the other one isn't.

Taeyong should have known though, that his actions weren’t on track with what he'd agreed upon with Doyoung. On top of everything, he was feeling guilty for breaking his promise and not letting the younger one know how exactly he was feeling. As soon as he thinks about it, he’s overwhelmed by frustration. Why can’t he just take care of himself? He’s 25 years old, for fuck’s sake. Does he really need someone else’s help with that? Is it really necessary to involve his best friend into this mess of a life that Taeyong deals with? Fuck, no. Taeyong hears those thoughts in his mind on repeat every time he considers talking to Doyoung, punishing himself for even thinking about it.

It’s everything going around and those thoughts that make him cry in the middle of making himself a cup of tea. He’s infinitely glad he’s alone so he doesn’t have to face the embarrassment of crying over—to anyone’s eyes—pouring hot water into a porcelain cup.

It’s okay, Taeyong says to himself, everything will be okay. He goes to his room.

When he takes a sip he feels like the entire world crumbles down; he forgot the sugar. This time, he allows the tears to run rampant.

* * *

In hindsight, Taeyong should have seen it coming. There’s only so much hiding you can do while living in the same building, sharing the same friends, and being co-workers. Not to mention—being best friends (also read: dom and sub of one another. But that’s a different topic.)

Taeyong is reading a book, after a week of working non-stop, he figured it was time to put his mind to rest for a bit, albeit not in the way he’s been craving—refraining—for. The practice room is empty, quiet, a bit warm. His phone plays music through the speakers at a low volume, almost relaxing enough to make him fall asleep. It’s cozy—until the door opens.

Not even the best Hollywood movie could reenact the way Doyoung enters the room, as seen trough Taeyong's eyes; the door opens discreetly, followed by the sound of it closing barely audible. The steps are measured, confident, _way too fucking slow._ Maybe it’s Taeyong’s perception, but it looks like everything moves in slow motion. The way Doyoung walks towards him, with no evident expression on his face, steps calculated and eyes staring right at him; the glance way too intense, Taeyong averts his eyes, focused on Doyoung’s shoes as he comes to a stop right in from of him, looming over Taeyong as a dark, heavy, powerful cloud.

Absolutely no words are spoken as Doyoung calmly reaches out and grabs Taeyong’s chin, moving swiftly so they can look at each other in the eye. Taeyong wants to melt into the couch (and Doyoung’s hands, or whatever).

“Can you explain to me why have you been avoiding me for an entire week.” Doyoung voices out, voice leaving no room for arguments or excuses.

 _I haven’t been ignoring you_ sounds like a lie because it is one. Taeyong might not even remember his own name right now, but he knows what not to say.

“I’ve been really tired, is all.” He croaks out.

“We had an agreement. I made my part while you missed yours. There’s no way this will work if you keep it up.” Doyoung continues as if he hadn't spoke at all. It sends a shrill down Taeyong’s spine.

As Taeyong doesn’t respond for some seconds, Doyoung speaks again. “Do you need to use your word?” He asks, gentle voice taking place over the previous demanding tone.

Taeyong swallows, “No.”

Doyoung’s fingers tighten over his chin. “You will go to your room, take a shower, then go to my room at 11 p.m sharp.”

It’s a weird moment to remember, but Taeyong sighs at Doyoung’s impeccable memory and his ability to remember even something so hectic as Taeyong's personal schedule that he briefly mentioned to him once. Taeyong had no more work left for the day.

Despite it not being a request, Taeyong nods, unable to look away from Doyoung’s dark, deep and trusting eyes. “Good,” Doyoung grants. “And don’t make me look through hell and back for you again. We might have a special agreement now, but you’re still my friend and I care about you either way.”

“Okay.” Taeyong agrees, as Doyoung caresses his cheekbone one last time before leaving him alone in the practice room again.

He goes back to reading his book. It takes him 3 entire minutes to realize it’s upside down.

11 p.m. arrives way too quickly for Taeyong, and not fast enough for Doyoung—he's on his room, stealing glances at the clock situated on top of the desk. The longer hand pointing slightly to the right as ten minutes pass from eleven o'clock.

As soon as five more seconds pass by, comes a knock to his door. His lips lift up at the corners slightly. “It’s open.”

Taeyong comes in like he knows he’s about to be eaten by wolves, but isn’t particularly bothered by the knowledge. It’s quite endearing, if Doyoung does says so himself. The older one's eyes are wide open, his naturally pouty lips take Doyoung's attention as he takes the few steps left to stand right in front of Doyoung who sits on the desk chair.

“I thought we’ve agreed that you would make an effort to come to me if things got hard.” Doyoung says evenly.

“I was managing just fine.” Taeyong says, but it’s weak.

“If you were then you wouldn’t have had to ignore me. Please don’t lie to me, Taeyong.”

Taeyong deflates, Doyoung notices he starts to fiddle with his fingers again, a nervous habit. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better,” he acknowledges.

Doyoung hums appreciatively. “I know you will, you’re so good,” He takes Taeyong’s hands in his. “That’s why I decided to do something for you.”

“Yeah?” Taeyong says, just for the sake of saying something, and feels his mouth go dry as Doyoung reaches for something on the desk—a tie. A blue tie, he recognizes it, he’s worn it before, it’s most likely from their stylist—

and it’s this thought that makes Taeyong’s breath catch on his throat.

Doyoung smiles sweetly at him, but his eyes were so intent Taeyong's heartbeat was starting to speed up. Doyoung takes both of his hands gently, winding the tie between his wrists to bring them together, making a quick knot and checking the tightness.

“Too tight?”

“No, it’s fine,” Taeyong assures, mouth dry.

“We might wear this tie any other day, you know?” Doyoung starts, teasing tone so even it made Taeyong’s knees weak. “I’ll have to return it someday, noona won’t believe me if I say I lost it…” he taunts. “What should I say?”

Taeyong’s brain takes a good five seconds to realize he should probably answer. “I- I don’t know.” He stutters out.

“Hmm… I could say…” Doyoung brings him closer, so Taeyong stands in between his legs, brings Taeyong's face closer with a hand on his nape. “I used it to cuff Taeyong hyung's hands together,” he whispers. The shiver that runs through Taeyong’s spine doesn't go unnoticed. “And now is ruined. How sad.”

“How sad,” Taeyong repeats, eyelids dropping.

“Or I could give it back, have any of the guys wear it unknowing of its past uses,” Doyoung says, for no real reason, but gets extremely and supremely satisfied when he hears Taeyong's intake of breath. Oh. That’s so very interesting.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Doyoung taunts again, enjoying himself way too much, and loving the way Taeyong seems to get more pliant by the second.

“Yes,” Taeyong mumbles, quietly, to himself. Doyoung hears it anyway.

Not letting go of Taeyong's nape—now his hand’s favorite place to rest—Doyoung maneuvers Taeyong so he sits properly on his lap, as best as possible while sitting on a chair himself. Doyoung brings Taeyong’s hands between their chests and caresses the front of them, pleased at the way Taeyong keeps moving them from time to time, just little tugs to remember the restraint—to feel it. Taeyong rests his head on his shoulder, warm puffs of breath meeting Doyoung’s neck in intervals.

Doyoung waits until he feels Taeyong's breathing stabilize and his body relax limply over his own. “You will stay like this for 12 minutes, then you'll go to sleep.”

Taeyong mumbles in disagreement.

“I had originally planned on 15, but then you didn’t follow your words and came here later than what I told you to, I had to discount some time. However, you apologized, so I guess you deserved a little consideration.” Doyoung explains, fingers massaging gently on Taeyong’s nape as his other hand rests on his thigh.

“Thank you,” Taeyong says, lips brushing warm skin. It’s hard for him to focus on that though, when his hands are being held and his brain finally starts to gain some peace and clarity after so many days. “I’m sleepy,” he thinks to say, and only then realizes he's voiced it out loud.

“You’ll go to sleep soon,” Doyoung assures. “You're doing so well right now, so good, Taeyong-ah.”

Taeyong’s stomach does a little flap right then and there.

Doyoung rubs calming motions on his back, making the little hairs on his arms stand up and his mind find tranquility. “Tell me about tomorrow, what are you planning to do?”

Tomorrow, tomorrow… what happens tomorrow? Taeyong allows himself a moment to be thoroughly confused before it clicks on his head. Oh.

Tomorrow… a Friday. An unassuming Friday, no special date by any means. Just a Friday that turns out to be Taeyong's day free. Recalls faintly at the back of his head that he told Doyoung about it, a couple of weeks back, that he couldn’t wait for that day to come fast enough; the day when he could wake up late and sleep more and do nothing if he so wanted because he had an empty schedule for two entire days. But it was the Friday that counted, because it was the first one, or something like that. Taeyong barely remembers it and it’s his own schedule, Doyoung has no obligation to do it too, but.

But Doyoung always remembers, because he’s just like that. Doyoung remembers, maybe thanks to his amazing memorizing skills, or maybe because he has a heart of gold that is genuine and cares and listens. Because Doyoung will remember anyone’s order at Starbucks in case he wants to surprise them with a drink someday and pretend to be annoyed at it to hide the fact that he loves to see his members happy. Because he remembers comments and anecdotes Taeyong tells for no special reason beyond the fact that he simply cares and thinks it’s worthy enough to be remembered. Taeyong likes to think Doyoung deems him worthy enough to be remembered. It’s a comforting thought.

The point is—Doyoung remembered, and it makes Taeyong smile, for more reasons than one.

Taking his time, he finally answers. “I'll sleep a lot,” Taeyong starts. Talking while his mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton it’s hard, he has to take little pauses between every short sentence he manages to utter. “Eat ice cream because I want to… maybe finish the book I’m reading…uhh… don’t- don’t know what else.”

“What flavor of ice cream do you want?” Doyoung asks next.

“Uhh…” Taeyong thinks again. “Strawberry… vanilla… uhm, the white one with chunk thingies on it…” he trails off.

Doyoung chuckles, not unkindly. “Chunk thingies? You mean cookies and cream?”

“Ah! That’s the one.” Taeyong exclaims (as far as exclaims while being slumped over your dom's lap and slipping into a healing headspace go).

“Isn’t that just the same as vanilla?” Doyoung wonders. Taeyong shakes his head.

“No, those are two very different flavors.” Taeyong replies, drowsy.

“I see…” Doyoung concedes. “Well, let me try it out tomorrow then, so I know the difference.”

Taeyong’s voice is soft, borderline cute, the way it sometimes gets when he’s tired or wants to get away with something. “Okie,” he complies, as sweet as always.

Doyoung kisses the top of his head, his hands coming up to trace the edges of the tie that hugged Taeyong’s skin. With that, he lifts Taeyong’s head from his shoulder.

“It’s been ten minutes,” Doyoung announces. “You’re doing a great job, baby.” He praises, running his knuckles over flushed cheekbones. Taeyong’s eyes remain closed, head tilted slightly toward Doyoung’s fingers, craving contact.

“I’m going to start taking these off, okay? Then you will go to bed.”

“Wait,” Taeyong blurts out, opening his eyes and focusing on Doyoung.

“What is it?””

“Do I… never mind.” Taeyong trails off, avoiding eye contact.

“Tell me.”

Taeyong finds sudden interest in his tied hands between them, focusing on them as his fingers fiddle with Doyoung’s shirt. _Don't deflect_ Doyoung warns before he tries to do just that. So Taeyong breathes in slowly, trying to find courage to ask again. “Do I g-go to my room… or do I stay here?”

The question stuns Doyoung, he thought it was obvious—then mentally slaps himself in the face because he shouldn’t relay on obviousness or wild guesses in this situation, he reminds himself. It comes to him, then: all the times they’ve done this so far, they never slept alone afterwards.

Doyoung briefly wonders if it’s okay. If it’s something they agreed upon. Thinks about how much he likes it. He blocks that thought.

On the other hand, he figures it’s alright, just another way of providing aftercare, (that particularly takes a bit longer than other ways of aftercare as it takes 7 to 8 hours but who’s counting) and Doyoung guesses it’s just fine. It’s fine.

But it’s not just his call to make.

“What do you want?” Doyoung asks, then.

Taeyong gapes for a second, taken aback. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Do you want to sleep here or do you want to go to your room?”

“Here,” Taeyong answers, a bit too quickly. “I mean—I…”

“Then sleep here,” Doyoung grants, stroking Taeyong’s pretty cheekbone for the last time before reaching down and begin untying Taeyong’s restraints.

“Okay,” Taeyong says, numbly, watching as Doyoung’s long fingers twist the tie as it frees away from his wrists. There the faintest shade of pink wrapped around his wrists where the edges of the tie hugged them a bit tighter when he moved his hands on purpose. He likes them, knowing he allowed them to be there.

Doyoung thinks otherwise, though. In the blink of an eye, he has Taeyong’s wrist held gently to his mouth, pressing tender kisses over warm, pink skin.

“Taeyongie, I’m so sorry, does it hurt?”

Taeyong can only stare at him. Unblinking, unmoving, completely enraptured as he watches Doyoung immerse himself into giving his wrists the utmost care they need—that Taeyong needs.

It’s a bit (lot) heartwarming.

“No. No, it doesn't hurt at all,” he smiles, the smile that Doyoung once said he finds the prettiest. He smiles wider. “It’s okay. Very green.”

Doyoung looks up at him then, looking for Taeyong’s eyes just to check, just to be sure. “Very green,” he repeats. “Good. Okay.”

“Okay.” Taeyong says, and is wrapped in a hug.

Doyoung kisses his temple again, whispering praises and reassuring words, so called sweet nothings that mean everything to Taeyong. In that moment, they both think the same thing, in different capacities.

Taeyong thinks he’s safe, cared for, that he’s good and worth something. He drowns in Doyoung’s words and allows himself to be carried to bed. He clings to Doyoung once he lays down next to him, smiles when Doyoung presses yet another kiss this time on his forehead. It’s sweet, safe, warm, comforting. He thinks everything is going to work out.

Doyoung thinks they are both new to this, and they are bound to make mistakes. Thinks that he made a mistake, today, and Taeyong did too, but ultimately—he thinks they will keep learning from those mistakes. They’ll grow from them and be better, do better. Things might get confusing at times, and they might forget how to do and say things properly but they won’t be able to know what is meant to be fixed if those mistakes don’t ever occur. He thinks about trust and how it doesn't just apply to trust to one another, more so trust oneself.

He also thinks everything is going to work out.

* * *

The days pass by without much eventualities—they start preparations for the next tour already as their short break comes to an end, and new schedules settle in.

Summer comes welcomed with open arms not long after the first week after their break is over, and everyone starts working again but the mood is notoriously lighter and joyful. Doyoung attributes it to the fact that they finally got some rest and spent a couple of days apart. (Inwardly, he thinks Taeyong plays a big influence on that as well, he’s been brighter these past days and most of that is thanks to Doyoung himself.)

About that—Doyoung doesn’t refrain from thinking about it anymore. He’s lost any type of shame or insecurity regarding their agreement after some of the guys found out—not about all of it, of course, but enough to get the gist of it.

It happened the day they got back to work, in the car, ready to go to the practice room.

Yuta and Johnny in the backseat, both with airpods on, minding their own business. Taeyong was a tad late again, so he ended up in their car right as they were about to part. He probably didn’t notice the other two members in the car as he automatically climbed on Doyoung's lap.

What surprised Doyoung wasn’t even the act itself, but the way his fellow members didn’t even bat an eye. Which—okay, kind of understandable. They’ve always been close like that, it was normal, but what wasn’t usual was the way Taeyong posed a tender kiss on his jaw right after.

He faintly registered Yuta's whispered “fucking finally” and Johnny’s giggle, but his brain was much more busy dealing with sirens and muffled screaming in his head. Because what the fuck. How does one prepare to receive a little peck from Lee Taeyong.

And that was Part One of How NCT found out that Doyoung is kinda domming Taeyong. That first occasion didn’t really confirm anything, though, that’s why part two exists.

Part Two takes place 12 hours later on that same day. They were having dinner on the practice room because they couldn’t wait until they got home and Donghyuck offered to pay and everyone believed him only to be fooled by the younger using Doyoung’s card to pay—but that’s just a little detail. They were all pretty tired, it was their first practice after being inactive for a couple of weeks and their bodies felt it.

Taeyong, on the other hand, was on a _very_ high tension.

Maybe it was because they haven’t seen Taeyong like that for _months_ , they almost forgot what it looked like when their leader seemed to jump into his own skin. Whatever the case, they all caught up on it pretty quickly.

Taeyong couldn’t stop chatting; catching up on four different conversations all at once, starting up a new one when they went quiet, laughing loudly at whatever anyone said that was remotely funny, repeating the dance routine he already had mastered twice again and urging everyone to follow through—it was a lot.

It would have been fine had that been all (the members were happy to see him energized again, after all) but then he got restless.

They were cleaning up after having finished dinner, all of them piling up their plates at chopsticks to throw away, except for one person. Taeyong was resting his back against the mirror wall, playing with a hair tie.

“Taeyong-ah come pick up your trash,” Johnny said offhandedly, as Taeyong always did what he was told.

This time he didn’t, though. “Don’t wanna,” Taeyong replied, smiling sweetly.

“Hyung, come on.” Jaehyun urged, not paying much attention to Taeyong’s attitude either.

Doyoung felt a little alarm go off in his head when Taeyong ignored him too.

“Yong, give me my hair tie, please,” Yuta asked, brushing his fingers through his long strands.

“You’ll have to catch me first!”

And Doyoung’s inner little alarm became as loud as sirens then, as he could only gape in disbelief when Taeyong stood up and started running around their practice room as a kid that wants to act up.

It was so unlike him, they all just stared in a mixture of shock and confusion—mostly confusion. Yuta attempted to go after him for a moment but stopped after realizing Taeyong wasn’t going to stop. He huffed, “Yong-ah, c'mon, I'm tired.”

“If you don’t catch me then you won’t have it,” Taeyong teased.

“Hyung, what the hell has gotten into you?” Jungwoo laughed tiredly, half worried as well. Seeing Taeyong like that was definitely new.

Doyoung didn’t really catch what Taeyong said, only heard his voice replying something and cackling loudly as he set off running again, but then—

“Do you need Doyoung to hold you down or something?”

And… what.

“Huh.” Doyoung almost snapped his neck with how fast he turned to Johnny, eloquently expressing the absolute absence of thoughts in his head.

“Please go and calm him down,” Taeil said, then. Doyoung was still having trouble processing what the fuck was going on so it took him a good second to realize Taeil was talking to him.

“What? Me?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what it is that you guys do together but if it helps to calm him down I don’t really care, dude,” Johnny shook his head, pushing him lightly towards Taeyong’s general direction.

And so. That’s how it happened. Doyoung walked up to Taeyong feeling like his legs were made of overcooked noodles, and instinctively reached for Taeyong’s nape with his right hand. The effect was overwhelmingly obvious; Taeyong stopped whatever blabber he was saying, his eyes focused solely on Doyoung’s, and the silence was deafening.

“Give Yuta his hair tie,” Doyoung ordered, only for Taeyong to hear, but carrying no less intensity despite the volume. He saw Taeyong’s Adam's Apple move as he swallowed thickly. Taeyong lifted his right hand immediately.

“Not to me, to him,” Doyoung clarified as Taeyong just held the hair tie for Doyoung to take. Yuta came right after Doyoung called him, pressing his fingers more firmly for Taeyong to speak: “Here, sorry.”

“No problem,” Yuta replied, a slow smirk taking over his lips before he turned around.

Back at Taeyong, Doyoung kept his voice down just for the older one to hear clearly. “Now you’ll go and pick up the trash you left on the floor, you will throw it away and apologize to the guys for causing inconvenience.”

He waited for Taeyong to voice out his agreement before letting go and pressing a kiss on his cheekbone. “Go.”

“Amazing,” Donghyuck whispered in awe when Taeyong went to pick up his leftovers neatly and effectively, taking less than a minute in cleaning up the rest of the mess.

So. That happened.

They didn’t discuss it thoroughly with the rest of the guys after that, but it was left pretty much on the clear that Taeyong and Doyoung’s relationship was far more than what they deemed it to be. The whole ordeal simply became a given, they all knew at least the surface of it, and it was enough.

Taeil even congratulated them after that, a weird “I’m glad you guys have each other” that Doyoung doesn’t want to dwell over too much because it will mean a lot more than what he’s ready to admit, so for now instead of calling it meaningful he’ll just clasify it as _weird._

All in all, things are good.

All in all, he will not think about the recent flood of thoughts that reign in his head and don’t let him sleep peacefully on most days.

All in all, he will ignore how different but not _different_ Taeyong has been acting around and with him lately.

Well, at least he’s trying to achieve all those things. Read: Doyoung can’t, for the live of him, ignore what the fuck is going on.

Doyoung likes things in order, he likes stability. One of the reasons he didn’t have a major mental breakdown after the guys found out about him and Taeyong was the fact that he could pinpoint exactly the time and place in which that happened, he can look back on it and say “yes, this is when it happened, this is _what_ happened.”

As for this, though… there is no starting point to look back on. No warning signals to have looked up for. No moment to pinpoint and recognize it as the start. Doyoung doesn’t know when he had started to fall in love with Taeyong.

And that’s just the beginning of it—he has no idea when did Taeyong start to act the way he’s been doing lately, either.

It was gradual, maybe, that’s why it’s so hard to find a solid start line, but Doyoung is pretty much sure that the way they are right now is pretty different from the way they were two months ago, when they had just started their arrangement.

What baffles Doyoung the most is that the differences aren’t even monumental, just little things that make his breath catch in his lungs sometimes, and they feel even natural, as if they were made to happen. Which—what the hell. Was he supposed to fall in love with his fellow band mate and best friend?

Doyoung is in a crisis. He just cannot let this happen.

It’s particularly hard to keep that statement true when Taeyong smiles at him at random times throughout the day, when he approaches Doyoung and hugs him from the back or brushes his fingers over his hand at passing. Lately, Taeyong likes to kiss him, too; little presses of his lips on his cheek, sometimes on his neck when Taeyong rests his head over Doyoung's shoulder. They’ve never—not on the lips (yet) (oh _god_ ) but they still make Doyoung’s heart beat out of time.

It’s also difficult to not reciprocate Taeyong’s actions, Doyoung has realized. He tried, at first, to refrain from responding to Taeyong’s words or actions. Taeyong would come into his room uninvited and cuddle next to him without uttering a word, and Doyoung tried—he really did, okay—to stop his hands from running through Taeyong’s hair and pull him closer. Alas, that was easier said than done, who could ever resist from complying to whatever it is that Taeyong asks for? (Not Doyoung, that’s who.)

More than that, though, it’s the fact that most of the times Doyoung doesn’t even realize he’s following Taeyong’s motions. Not only has he already called him ‘baby’ twice just this week alone—and oh, did Taeyong like it—but he’s been encouraging Taeyong’s occurrences by just letting him do whatever he wants and not correcting him when the older one calls him ‘darling’ sometimes, or kisses his jaw out of nowhere, or is all over Doyoung when they're not even in the middle of a scene— 

And it’s _that_ what leaves him at his current situation (aka: a mess)

Because when the hell did that happen? When the fuck did the lines start to become blurry and confusing? When did they start acting like _that_ outside of a scene?

Doyoung does not feel uncomfortable in the slightest, mostly because he knows Taeyong doesn’t, either. However, it doesn’t change the fact that something has changed.

It’s in the way that Doyoung was already 100% committed to the arrangement before, but now he feels uneasy at the mere _thought_ of not doing this with Taeyong— _for_ Taeyong. It’s in the way that Taeyong has started to ask for help even when he doesn’t feel really bad, just to experience _that_ something with Doyoung. It’s in the way that they’ve been much more intimate on their scenes, much more physical—Doyoung can’t fathom not kissing Taeyong’s closed eyelids or the corner of his lips at least once at one point of the whole ordeal, now.

It’s also in the way that Taeyong looks at him. Doyoung has always known that Taeyong loved him (of course, they were best friends. Of course, Taeyong would like him) just the same as Doyoung loved him back. That hasn’t changed, but now it’s different. It’s _more._

It’s Taeyong following his every move and trusting him entirely in every single way that’s humanly possible to trust a person. It’s Taeyong blinking his sleep-heavy eyes at him after a scene and shining like a thousand stars were inside them, like Doyoung put every star in there himself.

It’s—Doyoung loving him. More than what you love a friend, more than what you love a team member. More than he’s ever dared to love someone or something else than music. Like loving the person you know you were meant to find in this life (and maybe the other, and the next after that, and all the past lives too) and loving the person you know it's yours, as you are theirs in return.

Rather than being scary, it is so simple that it baffles Doyoung in a way he can’t even begin to formulate. It feels like it’s just how things were supposed to go, only he has no idea of how to approach the reality of it. They haven't talked about it, not a word about how they've changed a little bit over the months, not about how their scenes have been evolving, not about how they've slept on the same bed for almost every single night for the past month.

Doyoung knows they have to, the only way for their relationship (as friends, as group members, as dom and sub, and everything in between) to work is if there's enough effective communication. He knows he’s the one that has to bring the topic over the table, and has to do it soon.

That’s the last thought that circles around Doyoung’s mind that night, as he wraps his arms around Taeyong’s lithe body, and lets himself fall asleep.

* * *

The sun is starting to set, the last remnants of orange tinted solar light evenly disappear by the time Taeyong comes through the door of Doyoung’s room.

The moment feels like a scene from a movie; almost in slow motion, even. Taeyong closes the door behind him gently, walking with sure steps towards Doyoung, who—for some divine reason, maybe—stands up from his bed just at the right moment. It only takes one gaze at Taeyong for Doyoung to know the nature of his visit, and when he opens his mouth to ask what does Taeyong need, the elder one just—

It shouldn’t be a surprise when Taeyong drops to his knees in front of Doyoung for the first time. It shouldn't make Doyoung’s heart leap out of his ribcage when Taeyong closes his eyes and just gives himself to Doyoung entirely. It shouldn't, because he knows Taeyong has been needing this for so long, has been keeping this part of himself locked away for so long.

It shouldn't, because he has kind of been expecting it already. But it does.

With bright, doe eyes, Taeyong looks up at him. Angels must be singing in sorrow for not having Taeyong with them—or something like that. Doyoung is kind of gone right now, the only things he knows and is sure of right at this moment are: Taeyong is the most beautiful human being in the entire universe, and he will do whatever the fuck it takes for Taeyong to feel safe, at ease, and happy. (He thinks about what he feels is ridiculously similar to what people call love. Maybe it is.) (It is.)

Doyoung can't really control the way he feels. What he _can_ do is make Taeyong feel better, and that's exactly what he's going to do, madly in love with him or not.

His right hand cups Taeyong’s jaw in an instant, brushing his thumb over the elder one's cheeks. The way Taeyong is looking at him makes his knees weak, it’s like he trusts Doyoung with his whole life and that's— a lot. A lot because Doyoung would trust him with his life too. Because what if Taeyong feels the same? Doyoung takes a deep breath before pushing his fingers through Taeyong’s strands of hair, holding tightly.

He’s often amazed by the way a whole persona takes a hold of himself whenever they do scenes; it's still _Doyoung_ , but a firmer, much more assured, and dominant part of himself. Even if he tries to deny it, he knows he has a “dom voice” as Taeyong once told him, although he doesn’t use it often, he thinks Taeyong might need it now.

“Get up,” he says firmly. Taeyong looks at him on the brink of tears, already opening his mouth to refute. “I won’t repeat it.” Doyoung states.

Taeyong gets up reluctantly, bottom lip trembling and forming a pout instantly. He looks down, trying not to cry, and Doyoung notices the way his hands can’t stop fidgeting.

Before Taeyong has the chance to look up again, Doyoung catches his attention again. “Here, put this under your knees.”

Taeyong looks up in a second, a faint trace of a tear barely noticeable on his cheek. He grabs the pillow Doyoung gives him and situates it neatly on the floor. Instead of kneeling over it, he stays up waiting for further instructions. Doyoung’s heart soars.

“Kneel. Twenty minutes, yeah? I don’t want your knees hurting too much.”

Taeyong drops to his knees in a heartbeat, sighing deeply once his body locates as comfortable as he could be. Doyoung resumes his ministrations alternating between scratching the nape of Taeyong’s neck then tugging on his hair from time to time, enjoying the full-body shivers that take over him when Doyoung tugs a bit too roughly.

At one point, Taeyong wraps his fingers around both of his ankles. “This way they don’t shake,” he explains. In a softer tone, he adds: “I like being close to you.”

“I like it too, baby.” He notices the way Taeyong's breathing becomes more stable and his shoulders start to loosen up. “You’re doing so well, such a good boy.”

Taeyong whimpers quietly, pushing his forehead against Doyoung's thigh. “Don’t move,” Doyoung chastises. “Stay put.”

“Sorry,” Taeyong mumbles.

Normally, he wouldn’t let Taeyong talk too much, but that sixth sense that is always present during scenes tells him that Taeyong might need it right now. It feels right.

Twenty minutes is a lot for him to be standing up Doyoung decides, so he sits back on his bed, moving like ten centimeters away, but that’s all too much for Taeyong, apparently. He whines loudly when his fingers lose hold of Doyoung’s ankles.

“I’m here,” Doyoung assures, accommodating himself better to be closer to Taeyong.

“Doie…”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t want to be quiet today,” Taeyong admits.

“Then you won’t be quiet today,” Doyoung concedes.

Taeyong’s grip on his ankles tightens. It’s after a few deep breaths and Doyoung’s fingers brushing over his scalp that Taeyong speaks again.

“I need to tell you something,” He starts, eyes still closed.

“Right now?” Doyoung questions, because if Taeyong wants to talk that’s fine, but he doubts the elder will be able to string his thoughts properly in this state. He tells him just that.

“Yeah, and it’s okay… I wanna stay like this while I do it,” Taeyong assures, finally staring at Doyoung with nothing but trust and elation in his eyes.

Doyoung nods, smiling at him. “Alright, baby, tell me.”

Taeyong positions himself better, straightening his back before taking yet another deep breath to gain confidence and speak the thoughts out loud. He gets like that sometimes—sure about the thoughts he has, but needing reassurance and time for speaking them aloud.

“I think… I don’t mean to freak you out but I think it would be worse if I just keep this to myself and don’t let you know about it.” Taeyong starts, barely audible.

“Lately…I’ve been thinking about this and—fuck, this is harder than I thought,” he laughs humorlessly. “I really didn’t plan this to happen, I want you to know that, I never intended to initiate all this with you because of – because of the way I feel about you.”

Doyoung stops him right there, noticing the way Taeyong’s voice is on the verge of trembling. “What do you mean?”

Taeyong tightens his hold on Doyoung’s ankles impossibly tight, as if to ground himself and find a constant, solid ground. Doyoung lets him. “I think—no, I know—that everything that we do, including _this_ , means a lot more to me than what I originally intended.” Taeyong looks at him, then, after staring holes at the floor while he was talking. There’s a certain shine in his eyes that makes Doyoung fall silent, makes him hyper aware of the way he himself has been feeling lately. It’s too much.

“I don’t think this is the right time for us to talk about that,” Doyoung starts, already moving his hands to Taeyong’s arms with the intent of lifting him up.

“No!” Taeyong interrupts. “No, please. I need this. I’m sorry if it’s selfish but I really need this right now. I can think and talk properly, okay, I know what I want.” He states, looking sure and strong and everything Doyoung admires about him.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to talk about it in any other situation.” He finishes off, pleading.

Doyoung swallows, his heart beating entirely out of rhythm and palms sweating. They’re not on a normal scene right now—he doesn’t think this is a scene _at all._ It’s Taeyong needing the reassurance of Doyoung taking care of him while he tries to open up and share the thoughts that have been running through his mind for who knows how long. It’s simply _them_. So Doyoung nods again, despite his internal turmoil, and allows Taeyong to keep talking.

“You know the conditions we set at the beginning, when we built the whole arrangement?”

Of course he remembers, how could he not? The same conditions that kept him up at night for a while now, because he couldn’t stop thinking about the way he wanted to break one of those rules, and being terrified of possibly doing so.

_Every scene will be strictly platonic. No strings attached._

He hardly remembers what brought them to even add that rule in the first place, though. Maybe they both subconsciously knew that the nature of their relationship was too strong, too good—if given enough care and attention, enough nurturing and less limits, then it could evolve and grow unstoppably. 

(Maybe they both were scared of it ever happening, realizing how possible that situation was.)

Thing is—they set that condition to ground themselves, to set a line that shouldn’t be crossed, to reassure that every tender kiss and touch were nothing but a physical representation of the arrangement they had made.

And yet—

“Yes, I know,” Doyoung replies.

Taeyong swallows, Doyoung knows because he can see his Adam's Apple move noticeably. “What if I said I don’t want some of them anymore?”

There were around ten to fifteen rules, it’s hard to know which ones he's thinking about.

“Then we won’t have them anymore,” Doyoung says, because he’s perfectly aware that he would do everything that Taeyong could ever possibly want.

“But what if some of the rules… Doyoung-ah… they affect you too.”

“Then we'll discuss them together,” Doyoung reassures. “Which rules are you talking about?”

It’s been more than twenty minutes already, Taeyong should get up already, but he makes no intent of doing it so. Instead, he moves an inch closer, and slumps over Doyoung’s thigh.

“I think I wouldn’t mind if it’s not platonic anymore.”

It’s those words, a simple sentence, that make Doyoung’s stomach drop. It’s what makes him lean over and cup Taeyong’s jaw, staring intently into those dark, beautiful eyes of his.

“I think I would like to erase that rule, too.” He admits, checking Taeyong’s features to assess any reaction. What he gets is Taeyong’s pretty mouth gaping slightly.

“Yeah?” Taeyong asks hopeful.

Doyoung kisses his forehead in response, pressing for a longer time than usual. “Yes, baby.”

“And are you okay with that? Doesn’t it make you uncomfortable? That I… I feel more-?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but I kind of feel the same way.” Doyoung rushes to clarify, suddenly aware that he hasn’t said shit about that yet. Well.

“Oh?”

“I like you, Taeyong.” Doyoung confesses for the first time, heart on his sleeve. “I like you a lot, I was just worried of ruining everything had I ever brought myself to confess.”

Taeyong looks entirely surprised, as if it’s hard to believe someone could fall for him. As if loving him isn’t the easiest thing in the world. He’s still gaping a bit, pouty lips forming a cute O shape, and his eyes seem bigger than ever. For all of his endearing stance, what he blurts out is:

“Can you kiss me?”

And well. Yes. That is something Doyoung can do. Maybe if he could bring his brain to actually _think_ and act at the moment—

It takes an embarrassing twenty seconds of Doyoung's internal screaming for him to choke out a _yeah_ that he hopes isn’t as unattractive as he thinks.

Pressing their foreheads together, Taeyong leans in immediately, brushing his lips against Doyoung's for a brief snap of a second. Taeyong has his eyes closed, lips parted and so _so_ inviting. Doyoung prods the plump bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, reveling in the shiver that runs through Taeyong’s spine as he shudders. As much as he would love to tempt Taeyong further, there's only so much he can take when the other boy is waiting for his lips to be thoroughly kissed. And who is he to deny Taeyong of such thing?

With his thumb pressing over Taeyong’s plump lip for just one more second, he leans the rest of the way, lips meeting each other halfway. Maybe it’s the way he has been dreaming about this moment for months, maybe the way Taeyong responds with unconcealed eagerness, or maybe the way they had both been unknowingly _waiting_ for this moment for as long as they can remember. Whatever the case, it makes the kiss feel more than what it is—it makes them deepen the kiss after brushing their lips together for a few times, makes Doyoung's tongue roam over Taeyong’s lips before they grant him access to his mouth, tongues connecting in an instant, drawing a sigh from them both.

The position grows increasingly uncomfortable, though, so Doyoung lifts Taeyong from the floor, without separating their eager mouths from each other—it feels impossible to even think about parting right now. Taeyong soon makes his way over Doyoung’s lap, accommodating himself with his arms around Doyoung’s shoulders, chests pressed against each other. Doyoung kisses Taeyong the way he deserves to be kissed—deep and thorough, the takes his time without being too slow, finding a rhythm that works for them both. Taeyong likes it when Doyoung sucks on his lip, he likes it when Doyoung holds him by the waist tightly when he bites on the younger's lip. It drives Doyoung out of his mind how responsive Taeyong is when he presses open mouthed kisses on Taeyong’s jaw and he squirms on his lap, grinding helplessly.

Doyoung holds him in place, resuming his motions, kissing Taeyong’s red and spit-covered mouth. Taeyong is pliant on his lap, still grinding once in while when Doyoung does something particularly shiver-inducing. It’s entirely dizzying, the way Taeyong responds and kisses Doyoung as if it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.

After the second moan that’s choked up on Taeyong’s throat, Doyoung parts away first. Taeyong follows after him, eyes hazy and so incredibly dark. Doyoung placates him by kissing his lips chastely once, twice, then over his cheeks and the corner of his mouth. He feels Taeyong's equally erratic heart beat against his chest, takes a moment to look at the beautiful man in front of him; Taeyong’s cheeks are flushed, his lips full and redder than normal, his eyes hazy, and he simply looks content with a hint of hunger. It makes Doyoung smile.

“Why are you so gorgeous for, huh?” He teases, wrapping his arms around the elder's lithe waist.

Taeyong blushes even more, unable to hide the way the tip of his ears soon turn red. He smiles sheepishly, squirming over his lap. “Shut up.” He whines, not so secretly loving the praise.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” Doyoung admits.

“Me too,” Taeyong snickers, the dry little laugh he does when he’s shy. “I think we should do it often.”

Doyoung laughs. “Ah, is that what you think? Noted.”

“And there's another thing…” Taeyong trails off.

“Hmm, about?”

“Another um- rule…or- rather, something I’ve been thinking about.”

Doyoung brushes the hair away from Taeyong’s eyes when he looks down, his fingers fiddling on the collar of Doyoung’s shirt. He seems nervous again, though not the same way as he had looked earlier.

“There’s a chance,” Taeyong says slowly, “that this might be a sexual thing for me.”

He keeps his head down, staring at his fingers that keep fidgeting on Doyoung's shirt. Doyoung's hand tightens in his waist, only minutely, but doing this has only made it even easier for Taeyong to notice all of Doyoung's tiny little movements. Taeyong isn't not sure that he could have found the courage to say it if he wasn’t on Doyoung's lap, a safe place.

“How big is that chance?” Doyoung asks, just as slowly as Taeyong had spoken.

“Pretty big,” Taeyong admits.

“Okay.” Doyoung says. It hits him like a truck, then, the feeling of Taeyong’s erection pressing against his lower stomach. He had been trying to ignore it, all this time, with teasing words and mindless chatting. He hadn’t stopped to consider Taeyong bringing up this very topic to talk about, though.

“Okay,” he repeats. “Do you know what you need?” He asks then, because what Taeyong is thinking right now is much more important than the way he can’t feel his face.

It’s never been this hard to talk about before—and they’ve had countless conversations about it—but maybe that’s because Taeyong is asking for something different, now. He keeps fidgeting and the initial glow on his face is now replaced by anxiousness.

“Not really,” Taeyong chokes out. “I’m sorry, I probably made you uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have—”

“No. No, Taeyong-ah, look at me,” Doyoung stops him, holds him in place before he tries to get up again. “You didn’t –aren't—making me uncomfortable. It’s fine,” Doyoung says gently, borderline pleading, wanting Taeyong to understand.

“As I trust you to tell me if you ever feel even the least bit uncomfortable, I want you to do the same with me. You will be the first one to know if I don’t like something that we're doing or planning on doing, alright? I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes. I understand.” Taeyong says.

“What I want to know now is that if you have any idea of what you may need, if you know what you want.” Doyoung continues.

“I don’t know,” Taeyong whispers, “I didn’t think that far ahead. Maybe what we’ve been doing so far but…more?” He says uncertain.

“I see,” Doyoung placates him, hugging him close to his chest. “We'll figure it out, baby, I promise.”

It’s simple, in its complexity, how they find balance in each other.

Doyoung kisses Taeyong one last time, running his hands under Taeyong’s shirt, wanting to make it all better again.

They fall on the bed soon after, a soft _I love you_ that slips from Taeyong’s mouth the last thing he hears before he falls asleep. He attributes it to a simple dream.

* * *

Out of all possible outcomes that their last conversation could have drawn out, Doyoung is pleasantly surprised by the lack of world-tilting changes. (Besides being woken up by Taeyong's soft kisses trailing up from his chest to his neck and not restraining from reaching out with casual, careful touches in any given occasion) Everything is pretty much the same as before.

There is this sense of relief, however, that comes from finally coming clean about something you’ve been keeping to yourself for so long. Taeyong seems to feel the same way, as he tells Doyoung he's been feeling much lighter and happy these last few days. Which, of course, it's Doyoung's main priority to be honest. So it's all good.

It's all good except they haven't done anything since that night—namely a week ago. Seven days of knowing the way they both feel about each other and the little precious fact that Taeyong might quite possibly want to have sex with Doyoung. Well.

They have talked about it, though, which Doyoung prides himself to admit—at least their communication has gotten better. Taeyong pretty much stated he would like to have a proper relationship with him, proposal that left Doyoung feeling like he just won over the entire world and a couple stars as a plus—considering the nature of Taeyong's words, he might as well have.

Present time status is then: Taeyong and Doyoung might be in a relationship. According to that, they might engage in activities that go beyond a friendly approach. In simpler words: fuck. 

It's all peachy, really, Doyoung is just a little jumpy because he wants to kiss the lights out of Taeyong and then more, maybe tie his wrists or something, and if he wants to see him cry then—well that's just the way it is, okay? Anyways. But all these wonderful plans are being inevitably postponed due to the nature of their work.

It would be easy to wait, ideally—he’s basically _been_ waiting for years—had Taeyong not be the sexiest man Doyoung's ever had the curse of meeting in his entire lifetime.

Doyoung has always known Taeyong likes to tease, from all their playing around and banter it would have been impossible to miss the elder's playful and teasing nature. But he's only now getting to know this other side of him, how much of a _tease_ he actually is in this sense—how much Taeyong pushes Doyoung's buttons using his ridiculously sexy appeal to his own favor.

Friday night brings them to a boys night out. Jaehyun booked them a table in one of their favorite clubs in Itaewon, queer friendly and famous for its exclusivity and discretion as it’s the go-to place for numerous idols—and they’re no exception. They all agree unanimously to go out as soon as their schedules allow for it, and Doyoung is one of the principal propellers of the plan. For all the more businessy, professional issues expert that he is, Doyoung knows how and when to have fun, so their managers agree to the plan with no questions asked.

Doyoung is quite frankly in desperate need of getting shit-faced drunk, maybe dance without following a choreography for a change, and just have fun without worrying about work or any other stressful matters that keep him awake at night. As he does the finishing touches to his styled jet black hair, the door to the bathroom opens abruptly, following a special fragrance that Doyoung identifies as Taeyong's fancy, expensive cologne—a gift from Doyoung himself. Although the initial fragrance alerted him of the leader’s presence, nothing could have really prepared him to the sight that is Lee Taeyong ready to go out and have fun.

A sheer black shirt drapes on his shoulders in an effortless yet deliciously elegant manner, his black skinnies cling on to his legs like second skin, the rips on the knees and upper thighs reveal the distinctive pattern of fishnets and it makes Doyoung’s mouth run dry. All toppled with fancy boots and delicate silver jewelry that compliment the highlight on his cheekbones and the smokey eye makeup he wears proudly. Doyoung feels a tiny bit faint. Taeyong smirks as if he knows exactly the effect he has on Doyoung (because he _does_ ).

“Hey,” Taeyong says, before making way to stand next to Doyoung in front of the mirror, fixing his already perfectly styled pink hair.

“Hey,” Doyoung starts, leaving his hair alone because it’s entirely less important than admiring Taeyong right now. “You look really nice.”

Taeyong has the fucking audacity to _blush_. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung assures, turning to see him in the eye. “Really fucking good actually.”

“Thank you,” he responds as Doyoung brings one hand to his waist. “You look hot.”

Doyoung chuckles. “Thank you.” (He knows. Taeyong is sexier though, in his humble opinion, but he knows he’s hot himself. No shame in that.)

“I wanted to do your makeup,” Taeyong frowns, framing Doyoung’s jaw as he checks Doyoung’s eyes shaded in dark brown eye shadow.

“Mmm, you’d take forever though.”

“I wouldn’t!”

“How long did your makeup take?”

Taeyong huffs. “An hour,” he admits. “But look how nice it is!”

Doyoung nods. It’s admittedly good, he’s learned from his makeup artists really well. “It is really nice, but even if you just use a marker to draw a single blue dot on your lids you would look pretty so that’s not really fair.”

Taeyong huffs and drops his head on Doyoung’s shoulder, whining an indistinguishable sound that makes Doyoung smile as he wraps his arms around his petit frame.

“Are you gonna drink a lot tonight?” Taeyong asks, lips inches away from his neck.

“Planning on it. But if you wanna drink too I will lay back on it a bit.” Taeyong’s alcohol tolerance is arguably the worst amongst all of them, and Taeyong admits to it—could hardly argue against it, after passing out from drinking 2 shots of soju and a beer.

“I will drink but not to get drunk.” Taeyong says, and from one second to another he starts pressing his lips to Doyoung’s neck. _Okay._

Although it is far (like. So far) from being an unpleasant experience, Doyoung wants to ask want brought this on, just a random display of kisses all over his neck and a faint press of Taeyong’s hips against his own in the midst of a civil conversation—and oh, now a tiny bit of grinding.

“Taeyong-ah,” he says, and the honorific drops so naturally it feels like it’s just right.

Taeyong brings his face right in front of his, close enough to kiss him but not quite, and his plump lips curve just a hint at the corners. He so knows what he’s doing. “What?” he is no longer rubbing his hips at Doyoung but stays so so close it makes Doyoung dizzy in the middle of their goddamn bathroom.

“What are you doing,” Doyoung asks, but not really—more like an encouragement to keep it going if he wants, or an opening if he wants to stop.

Taeyong kisses the corners of his lips not even waiting for Doyoung to stop speaking, pecking on the corners for prolonged seconds. “Nothing,” he whispers, as he obviously _does_ do _something_ and keeps kissing all around except Doyoung’s mouth.

Before Doyoung has the chance to take matters into his own hands and kiss the hell out of Taeyong’s mouth, the other man parts just enough to keeps their noses touching, and dares to fucking ask, “Do you like what I’m wearing?”

And what the fuck. How. Could anyone ever keep any semblance of reasonable thinking when Taeyong is pressed to close to them and asking such thing? Doyoung cannot. He considers barking for a second, and ultimately blames his teammates for inducing the idea to his brain in the first place, but there’s literally nothing else he could say that could begin to explain how fucking sexy Taeyong looks right now.

“Fuck yes.” Is what he says instead. Which— _fuck yes_.

Taeyong bites Doyoung’s bottom lip briefly, just to drive him insane. “Even the fishnets?”

God. _Especially_ the fishnets. “Fuck yes.”

Another lip bite, followed by a press of his lips fucking _finally._ It lasts not more than a second though, and it’s making Doyoung grow increasingly intent on pushing Taeyong to the wall and just fucking—

“Even if I don’t wear nothing else underneath?”

The entire breath is knocked out of Doyoung’s poor mortal body. Rest in peace, dear soul. Demolished by Taeyong’s sexiness. You will be missed.

Doyoung can’t think, can’t move, can’t certainly not fucking believe what he’s hearing, and Taeyong just stays there; beautiful eyes hazy and big, little smirk on his face, and one hand just over Doyoung’s bare chest over the opening of his shirt. He probably feels how stupidly fast his heart is beating, maybe that’s why his smirk is growing bigger. And then, finally Doyoung gets a hold of one quarter of his mind to speech abilities.

“What.”

Taeyong giggles. The fucker. He kisses Doyoung for a mere second, not even giving the younger the opportunity to reciprocate, and then he’s drawing back and leaving the bathroom, but not before saying: “You’ll have to find out!” And leaves a gaping Doyoung standing like a sim in the middle of their shared bathroom.

He half hears Johnny calling for them to go already, so he ignores his growing boner, slaps his face to snap out of it, and leaves the room.

It was Doyoung’s mistake to think the previous event in the bathroom was the most teasing Taeyong could ever be. He was oh so very wrong.

After settling themselves at the club, all of them with their preferred drinks in hand, each goes to whatever their fun is. Johnny and Jaehyun go to meet some of their other friends, Jungwoo and Taeil sit on their table and chat while waiting for Yuta to bring them more drinks. And Taeyong…

Doyoung had a hard time just _arriving_ to the club, with Taeyong in the same car as him and pressed close together all the ride there. But as soon as they’re at the bar, Taeyong goes to the dancefloor with Mark and they just lose themselves dancing. Not once did he approach Doyoung again.

Sitting next to Yuta, Doyoung has a nice view of the dancing floor and Donghyuck pressed a bit too close to Mark, which he pointedly ignores, favoring his sight to focus on the absolute Adonis that is dancing by himself among the mass of faceless people that surround him. Although the people in the club are significantly attractive and exude a different energy just from being young and rich, Taeyong sticks out in the best way possible. He’s just so bright, his mere presence calls for attention, for praise, for admiration. That and Doyoung is just fucking whipped.

Doyoung decided to not get drunk tonight, despite the opposite idea being the sole reason why he convinced everyone so effectively. He changed his mind as soon as he saw that Taeyong’s sole alcoholic drink thus far was a colorful liquor that even Donghyuck can drink without getting drunk. Which means Taeyong wants to stay sober tonight, for whatever reason that might be, and Doyoung wants to stay sober because he feels like it’ll be the best. He’s not trying to expect anything, and although Taeyong’s last statement before they got here did leave him tingly from head to toe, he’s not waiting for something to happen, that’s entirely up to Taeyong alone. Doyoung also noticed that everyone except Taeyong and Mark are going hard on alcohol tonight, the poor guy will do with a little bit of help handling the rest of them, not counting Taeyong.

So. Sober he is, drinking his second and last beer. His alcohol tolerance is by far one of the best, and the beer won’t even tickle him, so he’s fine. As he puts the bottle back on the table, he focuses on the dance floor again, immediately catching Taeyong’s eyes.

His pink hair is sticking a bit to his forehead, his sheer shirt granting view of his lithe frame, and thanks to the intermittent lighting and multicolored lights, even his nipples show from movement to another. Doyoung is once again rendered speechless. Taeyong smirks as he notices Doyoung’s eyes on him, and continues dancing alone, not caring for the bodies that press against his as the space is so reduced.

Doyoung gets up on autopilot, not even noticing his own movements, and faintly hears _“Just go to him and stop devouring him with your eyes”_ that sounds like Taeil but he actively ignores it in favor to meet Taeyong. The mere meters feel endless as he leaves the table and walks to the dance floor, pushing through unfamiliar frames until he reaches his one and only. He’s dizzy just looking at Taeyong.

Taeyong wraps his arms around his neck instantly, practically claiming him as he presses his entire body to Doyoung’s. “Finally,” he says, barely audible in the midst of the loud music.

Doyoung takes a hold of the shorter’s waist, fingers digging into the skin to bring him even closer. “What were you waiting for?” Taeyong continues.

“What do you mean?”

“What were you doing all over there instead of dancing with me?”

“I didn’t know you were waiting for me.”

Taeyong brings his lips closer to his ear so he can hear him better, and bites the lobe before talking. “Of course I was waiting for you, do you know how many people have walked past to where you were and fucking ate you with their eyes?”

Doyoung does know, but it’s not a weird occurrence. They’re celebrities and are fairly attractive, but the way Taeyong is stating it sounds different; he knows it’s normal too, as he draws eyes to him everywhere he goes as well. It’s more intimate, playful, like it’s just them—not idols, not celebrities, not public figures. Just two guys who are together.

So Doyoung follows along.

“Really? Huh, didn’t notice. Was too busy looking at you, watching out for any stupid asshole that might think you’re here alone.” He replies equally close to Taeyong’s ear.

“Now they know _you_ aren’t alone here either,” Taeyong kisses his jaw. “And they better fucking stay away.”

Doyoung smiles, fully aware that Taeyong isn’t really that jealous, but also knowing he means it at least on a minimal level. He feels the same way too.

“Hmm, they better know you’re mine,” Doyoung murmurs, kissing Taeyong’s temple. “That no one else will ever get to have you like this, and no one will get to have me like this.” His fingers sneakily reach Taeyong’s bare lower back, still subtle as they are obviously in public, but risky enough that makes Taeyong gasp.

Taeyong mumbles something but it’s too low for him to hear as a new song comes on and the deep bass line sends vibrations all over his spine. “What did you say baby?”

“Yours.” Taeyong says, breathy voice, and looks at him in the eye seconds away from leaning in to kiss him. And oh how much he would love that.

But now it’s not the time. They can dance all pressed together as they want. They can even grind and twerk and whatever the fuck—but a kiss is a kiss, and if it reaches the sight of the wrong person they’re done for.

“That’s right baby,” Doyoung says on his ear again, and quickly turns Taeyong’s back to his chest, pressing him close against his body again. “But people will start to notice how the prettiest person in the room is being kissed by another man and they’ll start talking.”

Taeyong whines initially, but he knows better than to be a brat in this situation, so he settles against Doyoung’s chest and throws his head against the taller one’s shoulders. Doyoung holds him by the hips, already feeling Taeyong’s slight movements.

“Well fuck it.” Taeyong mumbles, and proceeds to embody every single beat and bass drop from the slow trap music that fills the club. The dark blue and fuchsia colored lights accentuate the beats and the way Taeyong moves with it. Either be because he’s a magnificent dancer or because he’s just perfect, but Taeyong moves like water. His movements languid but also sharp, purposeful but seemingly effortless, and sexy as everything he ever does. He covers Doyoung’s hands with one of his own while the other reaches behind him to pose over Doyoung’s nape, bringing his head lower and closer to him. Taeyong moves like they’re the only ones in the world, like the music was made for him, and the way he sways makes it easy for Doyoung to follow along.

Taeyong’s sharp jaw is defined perfectly, his lips opened just a little gap, just an expression of how much he’s enjoying it, and Doyoung stares at him so close he feels like he’s not even allowed to do it. Taeyong dances in a way that hides his actual intentions, and not even his ethereal side profile can distract Doyoung enough from the next series of more pronounced movements. Namely, grinding his ass against his crotch. Taeyong makes it look like he’s dancing a choreographed sexy routine, while he presses against Doyoung incessantly yet with the grace of a fucking professional.

Doyoung tenses his abs when he feels a particularly good friction, and tightens his hold on the older one’s hips. “Tae,” he warns.

Taeyong answers with another distinct grind, and his forming smirk tells Doyoung all he needs to know. Taeyong is of course doing it on purpose, and he of course has no intentions of stopping if Doyoung doesn’t stop him himself. Well, Doyoung doesn’t _want_ him to stop, but if Taeyong keeps it up he will definitely get hard and that will just be a little too uncomfortable due to their current circumstances. So.

“Tone it down,” Doyoung says, voice low, and doesn’t miss the shiver that goes through Taeyong’s spine.

The next deep bass line transitions into a different song, one that the mere sound of it makes Doyoung a bit more sweaty. Taeyong smiles unapologetically, just turns his face to reach Doyoung’s jaw with his lips as he leaves the trace of a kiss with open lips, teeth scraping barely over the jawbone. “Move with me,” He asks, as he continues his motions, a bit faster than before as the music demands it so.

Pushing his ass just a bit more finally makes Doyoung press back, grinding subtly into Taeyong’s ass, drawing a sigh from the older one’s lips. Doyoung can tell Taeyong is getting a little worked up, one look at where his hands lie on his hips evidences Taeyong’s slowly hardening erection. Doyoung almost shivers.

“You’re getting hard,” Doyoung states the obvious, just an observation, but the tone is what makes Taeyong close his eyes. It’s tempting.

For how much Taeyong has been teasing him tonight, Doyoung thinks is fair to give him a taste of it back. Even more so because he knows how much Taeyong relishes in it. The way he inhales sharply is a good indicator of that.

“I’m not,” Taeyong argues, just a halfhearted attempt to keep himself in check. Doyoung loves it.

“Hmm, but you are. Anyone who decides to check you out will notice you’re getting hard just by pushing your little ass into my dick.”

The ringing in Doyoung’s ears is so loud and his tunnel vision of just _Taeyong_ help to distract him from the fact that this is the very first time they’re talking about _this_. About dicks and asses and _them_. Doyoung ignores it and decides to focus on Taeyong's little gasp, his pants getting tighter by the minute, and if they don’t stop anytime soon it will be entirely too noticeable for them to get out of this inconspicuously. Yet Taeyong _keeps fucking going_.

“Do you want everyone to see? Is that why you can’t stop twitching?” Doyoung teases, his hold on Taeyong’s waist is tight enough to leave a mark, and Taeyong seems to know that too as he purposefully angles his hips so he presses harder.

“But you know they can’t do anything else besides _watch_ you getting hard, all so worked up, so needy,” Doyoung caves to temptation and kisses Taeyong’s neck quickly. “Just begging for me to fuck you,” he points it with a trust of his own, and Taeyong downright fucking _moans._

“Fucking hell, let’s get out of here.” That is the last fucking straw for him so he grabs Taeyong’s hand in his and pushes through the crowd to reach their table, purposefully standing in front of Taeyong as he lets the guys know they’re leaving because Taeyong’s head “hurts”. (Which isn't far from the truth, albeit another _head.)_ Already knowing one of the cars is waiting for them outside he doesn’t waste another second before he takes Taeyong along with him to the exit.

The ride back to the dorms seems to take hours when it’s just twenty minutes at most. Their driver is more than used to dealing with drunk Taeyong so Doyoung supposes the guy thinks Taeyong _is_ drunk when he doesn’t even bat an eye through the rearview mirror when Taeyong settles his legs over Doyoung’s thigh and presses his face to the younger one’s neck.

Doyoung cannot even begin to thank every single deity in the planet when they finally reach their accommodations. Glad that they both live on the same floor as well so them going together is nothing out of the ordinary. The moment he presses the password to their dorm to open the door Taeyong pushes him inside to press him against the door. Whatever pair of shoes were laying on the floor next to the door get thrown away as Doyoung moves them to Taeyong’s room without separating their lips.

Taeyong starts to unbutton Doyoung’s black shirt not even after they enter his room, pressing his hands over Doyoung’s chest and abs. His breathing is quick and gets interrupted by little hitches when Doyoung runs his hands over his nipples, the fabric of his shirt creating friction that draws a whimper out of Taeyong’s throat. Doyoung feels almost sad to take the shirt off of Taeyong, it’s so pretty in him, but he’s prettier with nothing on if he has to be honest. Taeyong brings them both down to the bed as Doyoung discards the piece of clothing, settling himself over Taeyong’s frame.

This position of kissing Taeyong, without shirts on, turned on, and with Taeyong’s erection pressing over his belly is just too out of everything he could have ever imagined. It’s too good, too real, too fucking amazing. Doyoung kisses Taeyong with everything he has, as he deserves, and Taeyong sighs and whimpers and fidgets and it’s just _right_. But they have to talk.

Barely separating an inch between their faces, Taeyong whines and tries to chase him back, craning his neck to find his lips again. Doyoung grants him a kiss before pulling back again. “Hey, hey wait, love,” he presses another kiss. “What do you want?”

Taeyong groans, thrusting once into Doyoung’s thigh just so he can be hyper aware of his hardened length. As if Doyoung could ever ignore it. Fuck. But he needs a response, a verbal one.

“You,” Taeyong answers. “You please, Doie please, I need _you_.” He whines, hips moving at their own accord as Taeyong is already too riled up. It makes Doyoung dizzy.

“Okay, okay baby, but you have to tell me.”

“I want—please fuck me, _please_ ,” he chokes out, pleading with bright eyes and all blushed. Doyoung almost groans at that, just seeing him all open and pleading like that—the prettiest.

Doyoung kisses him on the forehead once, just to calm himself and Taeyong down. “What’s your word?”

“Green, _green_ so very green, please _Doyoung.”_

Doyoung smiles when Taeyong gets impatient, all fidgety but in the best way possible, already bringing him back down to kiss the lights out of him.

With the confirmation of what they’re going to do, Doyoung feels both more relieved and excited as all fuck. _Their first time_. What the fuck. But it’s fine—they’ve been meaning to reach this point, it’s what they both want, _have been_ wanting more like, so it’s only fair they get to experience it right now. Right when Taeyong shivers when Doyoung runs his hands all over his torso to reach the button of his jeans, right above the constricted tent that’s already there.

Right when he’s unbuttoning Taeyong’s pants does Doyoung remember what the absolute hell he is wearing underneath. And not even the previous notice prepares him to see it right in front of him, right there. Separating their mouths Doyoung sits back just enough to admire Taeyong’s full frame as he takes off his last pieces of clothing. Taeyong tries to help him to hurry and take the pants off already but Doyoung stops him by pulling both of his wrists together and above his head. “Keep them there until I say so.”

After Taeyong’s nod, Doyoung takes his time to run his fingers softly over the band of the fishnets that come above the pants’ waist. Shifting one finger under and pulling it up, he lets the elastic band snap back to the skin with an audible noise, drawing a deep intake of breath from Taeyong.

“How did you even consider wearing this?” Doyoung marvels as he takes the jeans off, barely getting a second to assimilate what’s right in front of him.

Taeyong’s response—if there was any—is promptly taken by the wind as Doyoung gets quite literally a whiplash as he comes to the devastating conclusion that Taeyong was not lying earlier that night.

It cannot possibly be comfortable, Doyoung’s brain thinks, but it gets overthrown by the absolute majestic sight of the black, thin stripes of the fishnet trapping Taeyong’s hard, reddened cock into its confines, pressing against the skin obscenely. The fishnets hug his milky thighs miraculously and the only thought Doyoung has right then is to adorn it with bruises and bites and kisses and everything that can make Taeyong moan in absolute elation.

Taeyong sighs audibly when Doyoung takes the pants all the way off and focuses completely on his body, drinking him in. 

“You’re absolutely perfect,” Doyoung whispers in adoration, feeling his stomach drop as Taeyong’s cock twitches at the compliment. “Can I?” he asks, hands hovering over his upper thighs.

Taeyong nods so quickly and adamantly that Doyoung acts right away, touching his thighs and kneading them, admiring the way the fishnets leave a trace after being pressed on the skin for so long. Moving his hands closer to where Taeyong wants them the most but not quite, Doyoung slips a thumb under a stripe, so close to Taeyong’s throbbing cock, barely brushing against the skin. Taeyong moans at the most imperceptible feeling, tensing and shivering and so fucking amazing. Doyoung decides to reward him. “You can touch now—only above your belly though.” He rushes to clarify as Taeyong goes for his dick.

Doyoung leans down to kiss on Taeyong’s hipbone, prominent through the net, sucking and biting it enough to leave a rosy mark that Taeyong will keep feeling until tomorrow probably. He kisses over it again, blowing some air over it as he moves down to lick and kiss over his beautiful thighs. Taeyong moans at the sensation mixed with the pleasure drawn by his own fingers twitching and pulling his nipples, his lips are raw and red from biting them, and his chest is all flushed. Doyoung wants to ruin him.

With one last kiss to his thigh, he moves by kissing all his way to Taeyong’s chest, accompanying Taeyong’s fingers working on his nipples with his mouth. “ _Aah,_ please.” Flicking the nubs with his tongue, he scrapes his teeth gently over them, relishing on Taeyong’s moans and sighs of pleasure, he keeps the ministrations until Taeyong is thrashing over the bed, begging _please please please_ all over with a ragged voice, sweat glinting his skin as if it were glitter. Doyoung looks down to see his cock is dribbling precome all over the shaft, glistening in the soft lightning of the room. Leaning down, he presses a kiss through the fishnets, lips touching impossibly warm skin, and Taeyong moans so loud he’s afraid the neighbors will definitely hear.

“Doyoung please,” he chokes again. “touch me please.”

Doyoung kisses the shaft once again, before licking at the head once and twice to collect some of the precome before moving up again and kissing Taeyong deeply. As soon as he tastes himself Taeyong moans in the kiss, looking for friction desperately, clinging to Doyoung for dear life.

Doyoung unbuttons his own pants as soon as he fucking can, fingers a bit shaky as he takes them off all the way along with his underwear. Taeyong fucking _swoons_ when he looks at him.

“Oh my god,”

Doyoung chuckles, confused, “what?”

Taeyong stares at his dick pointedly, mouth gaping, and if he’s not mistaken his own dick twitched at the sight of it.

“Can I? please can I—” Taeyong pleads as he reaches to stroke Doyoung.

The moment the older one’s fingers wrap around his cock he feels every single possible feeling right at that second. He thinks it could be a religion, that’s how good it feels. With a grunt, he thrusts into Taeyong’s hand when he thumbs over the slit, using the precome to make the slide a but easier.

“Lube and condom?” Doyoung manages to ask in the midst of his pleasure-clouded mind.

“Side drawer,” he indicates, still stroking.

With the arousal taking over his entire body, Doyoung manages to fetch the items on a record time, itching to touch Taeyong as soon as humanly possible. The older one keeps his motions on Doyoung’s dick, slender fingers eager as his own member throbs on his stomach pressing against the fishnets. Doyoung wants to devour him.

“Let’s take these off, yeah?” As much as it pains him to take the garment off, Doyoung proceeds once Taeyong nods lifting his hips to make it easier.

Taeyong allows Doyoung to take the fishnets off, making him fall back on the bed and letting go of the younger's cock. Making use of his now free hands he runs them around everywhere he can reach—roaming over his stomach, on his sides, tugging on his hair minutely when Doyoung drops a kiss to his bare knee.

“You’re absolutely perfect,” Doyoung admires. Taeyong whimpers, a pinkish glow covering all over his chest at the compliment.

Taking the lube again Doyoung slicks his fingers quickly, one hand dropping to Taeyong’s hip that keeps thrusting on air in a desperate attempt to get some sort of relief. “Doyoung _please,”_ his own hands are kept busy to refrain from touching himself, one still on his hair while the other grips the bedsheets in a tight fist.

“Good boy,” Doyoung praises at the sight, rendering Taeyong a preening and whimpering mess. “Okay?” he asks when his index hovers over Taeyong’s hole.

Foreseeing Taeyong skipping the question in favor of pushing himself into Doyoung’s fingers, he takes them away, staring at Taeyong pointedly. “I need you to tell me.”

The way Taeyong doesn’t whine tells Doyoung that he understand why Doyoung is so adamant with getting verbal consent. Not only the fact of getting consent itself, but the fact that this is their first time. Doyoung has never done this with Taeyong, beyond slipping into a “dom” mindset, it’s him wanting reassurance to take care of his partner. So Taeyong tries to get the words form in his brain in the midst of all the arousal running through his veins to say: “yes, okay.”

That’s all that Doyoung needs before slipping the first finger into Taeyong.

Doyoung’s fingers are long and slender and reach every part of Taeyong that he wants. Taeyong closes his eyes at the feeling, brows furrowing at the initial intrusion then blending into a pleased expression, little moans falling from his open mouth.

The second finger comes soon enough after the older one starts to fuck himself into them with Doyoung’s permission. He looks ethereal in the low glow of the room, the sweat covering his body could be mistaken as glitter, his eye shadow is artistically smudged, and his spit covered lips look like lip gloss. Taeyong is art no matter what he does, and if he looks this good while being fingered Doyoung cannot fucking wait to see what he looks like when being properly fucked as he deserves.

“ _Ah—_ another one, please,” his raspy voice is higher than usual, and his eyes are so dark Doyoung feels like he’s being eaten alive (and he loves it.)

The response is a third finger fucking into him in one swift motion, stealing a broken moan out of Taeyong’s throat. Doyoung moves his unoccupied hand from the elder’s hip to his chest, scraping his nails just barely over Taeyong’s nipple. Not allowing Taeyong to get used to the feeling he moves his fingers to the other nipple, twisting and fumbling with the hardened nub and loving the way it gets pinker with each touch he gives. Taeyong’s moans turned much louder, little pleads and ‘ _ah'_ s that fall from his lips obscenely.

Doyoung shifts his fingers just barely, motions deeper and more pointed looking for that one spot that will make Taeyong curl in pleasure. Not even two more thrusts and Taeyong fucking _yells._

 _“Fuck!_ A-ah. I’m ready. Ready—please Doyoung please, _please_.”

It takes all of Doyoung’s willpower not to moan at the way Taeyong clenches so amazingly tight on his fingers. Barely utters the words without stuttering—“Please what.”

Taeyong’s thighs tremble, all too gone to even whine about Doyoung’s request, and just plain _begs_.

“ _Fuck me_ , please, now I want you now.”

So of course Doyoung has to kiss him.

With all the hunger and want in Doyoung’s body, he cups Taeyong’s jaw to bring his mouth close to his. He kisses Taeyong’s plump lips, biting and sucking at every little moan that gets lost between their kisses. Taeyong does his best to reciprocate, but ultimately lets Doyoung to take the lead, loving the way he can feel Doyoung’s desperation and want in the deep passionate swirls of their tongues.

Rolling the condom and covering it in lube proves to be the hardest task at hand in the entire night, as Taeyong latches to his collarbones to suck and bite and leave open mouthed kisses all over his chest. Once he places the head of his cock over Taeyong’s hole he feels like every planet has magically aligned. Or something like that—it just feels so fucking good. Doyoung can’t stop the sigh that is drawn from his chest, an overdue friction over his hard dick. Taeyong opens his legs naturally, offering himself while looking like the sexiest person ever. Doyoung is so gone.

There are exactly two thoughts in Doyoung’s head right now—one of them just a mantra of _Taeyong Taeyong Taeyong_ , and the other a simple 3-word sentence that once he conceives it he can’t make it go away. Ignoring the latter, he takes one of Taeyong’s hands in his, kisses his lips once again, and thrusts into him.

The drag is unbelievable. Slow and so tight it makes Doyoung swoon, Taeyong grips his hand tightly and constricts his abdomen, trying not to clench. Doyoung waits for the older one to grant him access to go in fully, and he feels dizzy as he realizes he’s only halfway through and already feeling so much. There must be a bias—he thinks for a second—maybe it’s this world droppingly good because it’s Taeyong. Because it’s them, in the most intimate way they can ever be.

“Okay?” Doyoung asks again, and Taeyong gives a little nod before replying. “Go.” He breathes out.

The rest of the way feels eternal, once his hips make contact with Taeyong’s body he feels like his entire soul is on fire. Taeyong has closed his eyes again, breathing heavily and gasping a little. Doyoung holds his hand all the while, catching his breath and willing himself not to thrust yet. The warmth enveloping him and Taeyong’s dick twitching without even being touched makes his hips stutter minutely—barely a movement at all—making Taeyong and Doyoung moan in unison.

“Fuck-okay. Yes. Move,” the older one indicates, moving his free hand to Doyoung’s nape.

Call him romantic, an idiot, a _whatever_. But honest to fuck—nothing could have ever prepared him to what it feels like to fuck Taeyong. His best friend, his teammate, his… his person. The realization hits him all at once, while thrusting properly for the first time into Taeyong’s ass. There’s sweat making Doyoung’s jet black hair stick to his forehead that Taeyong tries to fix absentmindedly with the loveliest look on his face, almost as if he isn’t getting his brains fucked out right at that very moment. There’s the sound of skin over skin in their otherwise silent bedroom, mingling with his heavy breathing and gasps and sighs and moans There’s Doyoung fucking Taeyong like he means it, like he’s dreamt of doing, like Taeyong wants, like Taeyong deserves. There’s them holding each other’s hand through it all—through the moans, the deep thrusts, the sweating, the _wanting._ There’s all of that, but there’s also Doyoung coming to terms with the fact there’s no better way to describe what Taeyong is to him than just _his person._ No better way to describe what he is to Taeyong than _Taeyong's person._ Not in an ownership way, not in a way that objectifies them, but in a way that they just _fit_. They get each other better than anyone else. They’re each other’s.

Doyoung quickens his thrusts when he feels the familiar hotness pooling on his lower stomach, when he shivers at Taeyong clenching around him for a mere second, when he sees Taeyong’s cock begging for release—red and throbbing and untouched. He knows he keeps hitting Taeyong’s prostate when the older one screams, followed by a thread of whimpers and begging _there, please oh my god, yes, again_ and him pulling his own hair at the feeling.

He lets go of Taeyong’s hand to push his legs close to his chest, the new position bringing them closer and tighter and oh so fucking better. Taeyong is so sexily flexible he easily throws a leg over Doyoung’s shoulder, the younger one holding himself on his elbows and curses himself for not hitting the gym as much as he probably should—he could certainly use a bit more of strength on his arms right now. With the new angle he fucks into Taeyong much more deeply and at a pace they both seek for. “You can touch yourself,” Doyoung whispers on Taeyong’s ear.

“I’m so—so close,” Taeyong cries. His hand barely has access to his dick with how close they are pressed together, but Doyoung figures the friction with his abs is granting him some relief judging by his voice.

It’s everything at once again, the coiling feeling on his navel, the unbelievable tightness that hug his cock, Taeyong’s moans and kiss seeking mouth, their bodies so impossibly close together, their breaths mixing together—everything at once. Doyoung kisses Taeyong again, taking a hold of his hand back, his heart beating so loud so fast, so full of love and content, so happy. “Me too,” he chokes out, feeling his hips stutter, unable to hold any longer.

It’s his own name cried out loud, drawn from Taeyong’s chest, so loudly, so brokenly, right before he feels a streak of something on his jaw as Taeyong clenches while he comes, that Doyoung comes too. The orgasm shaking his entire body and he thrusts to ride it down, Taeyong moaning at the sensation, and their hands clasped tight.

Little shivers run through Taeyong’s spine as Doyoung rides out his orgasm, finally stopping and pulling out before Taeyong gets too oversensitive. Doyoung kisses his neck, resting his head on Taeyong’s shoulder. The older one runs his hands tiredly over his back, running over his hair, hugging him close. Their hearts beat loud loud loud, at the same rhythm, with the same intensity. Taeyong moves first; lifting Doyoung’s face to look at him in the eye.

Doyoung feels—happy, elated, at ease— _love_. He feels so much love it drowns him, so much love he’s sure Taeyong can feel it too just by looking at each other’s eyes. He doesn’t really know what to do except hold on to it, staring into Taeyong’s eyes like a lifeline. There’s a small smile taking form on Taeyong’s beautiful face, a happy, sweet smile that makes Doyoung’s heart ache. He runs his thumb over Taeyong’s temple, just admiring, just loving. After what they just did—after being so intimate, so close—it seems impossible, but this feels even more intimate. It’s just them, silently bashing in each other’s presence.

Taeyong opens his lips, to say something maybe, to tell him to go wash up because they’re literally disgusting right now, but what he says is: “You’re so important to me.”

And it’s—so charged, so genuine it makes Doyoung want to cry. Because of course he knows Taeyong appreciates him, of course he appreciates Taeyong back, but they don’t really say it. It’s never been really necessary, when actions speak louder than words, when what they do for each other speak for itself rather than saying it verbally. But hearing it like this, after having sex with each other for the first time, after going through so much, after trusting each other with things they won’t ever do with someone else… it’s love.

Taeyong looks so sure, so sincere, so sweet It’s everything and a bit more.

“You’re so important to me, too. More than you could ever imagine.”

The way Taeyong’s eyes sparkle, how his smile gets that bit more wide, tells Doyoung that maybe he’s thinking the same too. Maybe he feels as much as Doyoung, too. Maybe it’s love for him too.

“I don’t want to ruin this but there’s literal cum drying on my skin and it’s frankly disgusting,” Taeyong laughs then, his sweet little giggle that has no sound, that makes his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunch (that makes Doyoung’s heart soar.)

Doyoung chuckles, posing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Yeah let’s get cleaned up.”

Too tired to take a shower, Doyoung cleans them up with a soaked cloth, softly going through Taeyong’s lower body and between his legs, before taking new briefs to put on and dressing Taeyong in one of his own shirts. When they lay down to sleep Taeyong kisses Doyoung softly, a little goodnight, and then fall asleep; their hearts beating at the same time.

* * *

For what it’s worth, the changes aren’t exactly world-stopping. The guys are just exaggerating little shits that love to blow things out of proportion (and some just like to blow, period.)

Doyoung does his best to ignore the over the top gasps and exclamations when Taeyong announces their relationship officially to the group. After a long discussion on whether it was a good idea (“it is, I love you”) whether it was the right time (“we have each other now, when else?”) and if it would fuck up their group dynamics too much or not (“they come first, if they don’t agree then we won’t do it.”) But of course the guys agreed—encouraged even. It wasn’t like they didn’t sense something was going on in the first place anyways, or like Taeyong and Doyoung aren’t mature enough to deal with their feelings responsibly.

All in all, the only changes only consisted of them sleeping together in the same room more often than not, and going to dates a bit more regularly as their schedules allowed it. It was just the guys creating a whole game of how would they manage efficiently when they get sexiled (“ _If_ we ever ask you guys to do that—” Taeyong starts, and gets promptly cut off by Johnny. “ _When_ you guys ask us that—”) and whining about being a third wheel even when they’re all together. Doyoung knows it’s all in good fun though, so he lets it pass.

Taeyong, for his part, has been getting help to deal with stress and the occasional feeling of loneliness that he told Doyoung it encompasses him sometimes. Doyoung is happy to see the changes on that aspect, though, as they’re quite noticeable. Taeyong has been learning to allow himself to be unoccupied—or in other words, has finally himself to rest without feeling guilty about the lack of productivity that entails when he’s not working. He has been smiling more, too, being his playful little self and genuinely enjoying each day. He cooks at least once a week for all of them, and always offers a bigger portion for Doyoung. It’s in the little things as well, like him drawing more and watering his plants daily. It’s him waking Doyoung up with his fingers caressing his face. It’s Taeyong learning how to deal with difficult situations without putting himself at last, and taking into account his own stance as well. It’s Taeyong not seeking Doyoung for their little arrangement to make him forget about the world, but for pleasure instead, just for fun sometimes.

Doyoung grows as he sees Taeyong grow as well. Maybe the changes aren’t that visible, that’s why they don’t seem big, but Doyoung is starting to think these changes are big after all. They’re still learning how to live, how to navigate the world and their peculiar works and everything that comes with it. Every day presents a challenge, albeit small ones at times, but getting through them just gives them an additional lesson, one more little piece of knowledge to go through the next day. It’s nice, because they’re doing it together. It’s nice, Doyoung thinks, to have someone that cares about you and whom you care about in return.

“It’s really nice,” Doyoung whispers, making Taeyong’s eyelids flutter as he opens his eyes.

“Hmm? What is?”

“You. It’s nice to have you.”

Taeyong chuckles. “What?”

“I just like having you by my side, okay?” Doyoung repeats, and pinches Taeyong’s side just because.

“You’re weird. I like having you by my side too.” Taeyong smiles, pretty eyes shining and the home of every piece of universe Doyoung wants to discover. He’s not even embarrassed to admit how in love he is.

“Hey… I love you, you know that, right?” Doyoung swallows, nervous all of a sudden, but not any less happy than when he woke up a couple of minutes ago. He admires Taeyong’s recently woken up face, bare and fresh. Absolutely beautiful. It’s hard to believe they’ve been together for almost a month now.

Taeyong lifts his hand to Doyoung’s face, framing his jaw tenderly. There’s this way Taeyong cares for people—openly, sincerely, quietly. With little touches and gentle words. Patiently, warmly. It’s one of Doyoung’s favorite things about him. It shows how brave Taeyong is, for how vulnerable he is. “I know,” Taeyong says, eyes smiling. “I love you more.”

“That sounds fair,” Doyoung teases, kissing his boyfriend for the first time in the day as he should.

Taeyong’s laugh drowns every other sound, nothing could ever be more important than Taeyong’s sounds of enjoyment in Doyoung’s opinion.

When they part, there’s a distinctive glint in Taeyong’s eyes.

“Wanna know a secret?” He prompts, keeping Doyoung very close. “I miss our scenes.”

That’s. Nice.

“Yeah?”

“Mmh… and I would really like it if we could… I don’t know… do it again.” Taeyong points every word with a kiss, as if Doyoung would need any convincing. He can feel Taeyong’s lips curled up at Doyoung's sharp intake of breath.

And well, who is he to ever deny?

“Hands over your head,” Doyoung starts, and cannot stop the smile that takes over his face. Oh how he’s missed this too.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! kudos and comments make me happy so i'd appreciate it a lot! :)
> 
> if you have any suggestions for future works I'd love to hear abt them! or just to say hi :) [cc](https://curiouscat.me/tenkooks)


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